Rise of the Phoenix
by Kazthom
Summary: Power's base is under attack, with a teammate trapped inside. Dread is confident he will at last achieve victory, but the war has not been won yet.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story begins about halfway through Retribution and will continue until the war is over. I know it will take me some time to finish it, so please be patient with me. I would like to extend my deepest gratitude to Cecily, Deb, David and Randy, all from the Captain Power list at Yahoo. You have answered my questions about the most minute details of the show and have been gracious enough to allow me to bounce ideas off you. In some cases – CJ, this especially means you! – we've come so darn close on ideas that I've hesitated to even continue, for fear of ripping off an idea. Yes, there ARE only so many ways this could go, so I do appreciate your generosity in allowing me to write this. Thank you to Kerry for allowing me to use the characters Kiara "Lark" Rutledge and Neil "Fox" Lockhart. I would also like to thank the rest of the gang at the CP list – you're an incredible group of folks and I have enjoyed our chats. As usual, I own no part of this show and if I did, well, let's just say we'd have known the ending a very long time ago. So here goes…

(minor changes made 5-28-06)

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32-7 Mark 13; 1415 Hours

Dr. Stuart Gordon Power stared across the cabin of the Jumpship, his expression weary but determined. "Well, I'll tell you one thing. One way or another, I'm going to end this one. I swear it."

His closest friend and colleague, Major Matthew Masterson, remained silent, knowing the burden that weighed heavily on Power's shoulders.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0104 Hours

Darkness had settled across the desert and a chill had quickly followed as the sun's warmth disappeared past the horizon. The sounds of night creatures had vanished years before, leaving nothing but an unsettling stillness in the air. Stars dotted the clear sky and the shadow of a mountain spread over the sand in the moonlight.

Several hundred feet below the surface of the desert, carved deep into the rock of the mountain, three interconnected rooms remained sheltered from the world above. The rooms had been created more than fifteen years earlier yet remained in the same condition as the day they were formed.

The subtle hum of a water purification system drifted from the shadows of the smallest room, going unnoticed by the inhabitants of the underground structure. They had long ago learned to dismiss any of the background noises and focus only on the mission they had been assigned.

Sergeant Timothy Jacqmain looked around the largest room, studying the seven other men assembled with him. He had worked with each of them on different operations and when he'd been told to assemble a team of his own, he'd chosen Corporal Gabriel "Griffin" Comstock, Sergeant Mitchell "Jasper" O'Reilly, and Corporal Franklin "Demon" Kurtz. They were the best at what they did and he needed nothing less than the best.

Griffin was monitoring the channels that had been installed less than two months earlier and hissed with disgust as static filled the air for the third time in less than an hour. "Jackal, I swear I'm going to put new transmitters in there the next time they're gone. I can't keep tabs on them if I can't hear them!" He slapped at the receiver once again and was rewarded with a reduction in the amount of static churning through.

Jacqmain shook his head, glancing at his communications officer. "Only if you brought the spare parts with you when we arrived."

They had been assigned to this hole more than a month prior, and while Griffin's temper flared at the unreliability of the equipment, no one showed the effects of being held in such a confined space. Their training had been rigorous, thorough. They were expected to maintain their composure until their tour was complete or they were called upon for duty. Another seventeen days would end their tour and they would be placed back into the rotation.

Across the room, he saw the leader of the second team going over schematics. Sergeant Lucas Sheppard was a quiet man who had earned his code name, Viper, from his ability to strike without being seen or heard. He had been Jacqmain's first choice, until the orders had been fully revealed. Jackal had nodded with approval when he'd heard the choices Sheppard had made: Sergeants David Wakefield and Malcolm Blaszczynski and Corporal Stephen Mandridge. Razor, Blitz and Hummer.

On paper, they were two distinct teams, each with their own assignments. In reality, they were essential to each other and the mission could not be completed if any of them failed. They were told as much when they were initially briefed and it became that much more apparent when they'd been sealed into the cavern the first time, nearly two years prior. This place would be their tomb if they were unintentionally discovered, but a lifeline if they were to reveal themselves. Their location was known to only a handful of people outside of himself and Viper and the leaders of the other teams on rotation.

Their mission was multifaceted: Should the headquarters of Captain Jonathan Power come under attack and the autodestruct sequence be set, a series of charges were to be deactivated on all levels of the structure. These charges had been carefully selected to retain the integrity of the command center. Their primary objective was to secure Power's supercomputer, Mentor, and retrieve everything it contained. In the process, they were to allow no harm to come to any member of Power's team. And they were to remain undetected.

Several hundred feet below the surface of the desert, they were approximately one quarter of a mile away from the Power Base and connected to it by a tunnel that led to the ground hangar. The entrance to the tunnel had been designed by the architect to blend into the wall without a trace. The locks could be released from either direction, but only if the correct codes were sent through the base's computer system. Or overridden, if it was an emergency.

The sound of a skybike echoed through the stillness of the cavernous room, reverberating for several seconds before the engine shut down. The gentle whoosh of a power suit being disengaged followed, then soft footsteps slowly faded, replaced by the stillness once again.

Jackal knew from the sound of the footsteps that it was Corporal Chase who had returned to the base. She had returned alone, which was an unusual tactic for Captain Power. The curiosity of the others had been piqued as well. He saw it in their postures and the hand of poker that had come to a halt at the sound of the skybike.

Their monitors came to life once again, this time coming from the command center. The voice of Power's computer, Mentor, spoke to Chase with no interference. _"Readings indicate data chip contains no coded information."_

So she was back to analyze a disk. She would be transmitting that information to the captain, who would undoubtedly be displeased –

The sound of a blast rumbled over the communicator and a persistent wail began, interspersed with staccato bursts of static. Then nothing. They all scrambled to their feet, grabbing weapons and pulling on packs and helmets.

Griffin fiddled for several moments with the sensors, then the communicator sprang to life again with a hiss of static. Words began to break through the noise after a hard slap to the unit and he kept the transmissions going, amplifying the signal as much as he could. They heard Pilot give the order to seal the blast doors, the siren wailing insistently in the background. Power's voice broke through, repeatedly calling her name. The intensity in his voice grew and they struggled to gain as much information as they could.

"_Captain… trouble. … under attack…repeat, we are under attack! … one BioDread …troopers…penetrated the defenses. Jon, they're inside!"_

Jackal and Viper exchanged looks. Even through the static, the fear was apparent in her voice.

"Gentlemen, we have two minutes to get inside the base. Chase is not to know we're there. That is a direct order. Understood?

The underground cavern opened into a tunnel almost five feet in diameter and extended as far as their lights would penetrate. Their footsteps echoed harshly, even as the static of Griffin's monitor hissed from the rear.

"…_out…now! That's…order_!" They could hear the desperation rising in Power's voice.

The two teams raced through the tunnel, plunging deeper into the mountain that housed the Power Base. Jackal checked his chronometer: forty three seconds had already been eaten.

Another full minute later, they reached the ladder leading to Hangar Seven, where the BioDread had broken through. Viper hauled himself to the top, Jasper on his heels. He coded in a sequence and eased the hatch open, all his senses straining to ascertain the security of their entrance. His green eyes caught on the two BioMechs with their backs toward him, their aim toward the corridor leading from the hangar.

He signaled to Jasper and they eased themselves from their hiding place. Jackal looked at his chronometer again. They had synched themselves to the countdown as Chase had engaged the autodestruct sequence. There were now three minutes, two seconds before the detonations began. And they'd lost communications from within the base itself. They had no way to know if Chase was out, unless they were to gain visual confirmation.

Two blasts rang out and there was a clank of metal against stone. Jasper signaled all clear and they poured into the hangar, running to the corridor. The groups split immediately into two-man teams and separated to the different levels. Jackal and Griffin ran straight ahead, seeing the destruction that had already been inflicted on the base. Fires were crackling slowly all around them and doors had been blown open, the contents of the rooms torched. Auxiliary lighting had kicked on and they both switched to night vision to aid their search in the darkened recesses.

Jackal found the first charge and signaled to Griffin, who located the corresponding one on the opposite side of the corridor. They disarmed each and advanced quickly to the next quadrant, every muscle tensed in anticipation of being discovered. Seven charges later, Jackal glanced at his chronometer. Twenty-six seconds remaining. They had one more set of charges to disarm before time was up.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0127 Hours

_The final commitment._

The thought ran through the mind of the man who was once known as Lyman Taggart, but who was now feared as Lord Dread. He walked down the dark corridor, the two BioMechs flanking him on either side, as if to stop him should he suddenly decide to change the plans that had been in progress for the last fifteen years.

He had not worked for so long to be deprived of this opportunity. He would become one with the machine. For the work he had done, for the sacrifices he had made, he would be given a glorious new body. An undying body of shining metal that would free him from the restraints of his human existence.

And once he had made this transformation, he would bestow upon those faithful to the machine their own undying bodies, to serve the Empire they had sworn to honor and obey. These Organics, his Overunits, would be among the first to join him as he brought his vision, his New Order, to fruition.

The stronghold of the Resistance, Captain Jonathan Power's base, would be secured in a matter of minutes. All the data, all the resources, all the secrets that it held would be his and he would use them to destroy the Resistance. These Organics were the ones that stood between him and his new world, one where emotions no longer interfered and logic prevailed.

He would rise from his mortal body in three days and after that time, his perfect new world would rise from the old.

Lord Dread stopped as he reached the door to the Transfer Chamber. He felt his heart beat faster in his chest in anticipation of what was about to take place. This was a feeling he would no longer be burdened by once the cerebral transfer was complete. He relished this thought and activated the door release.

The doors opened before him and he met the stares of the medical team inside. They appeared confident; just as they should have been. Dread stepped through the door and heard it close behind him, locking out the BioMechs that had accompanied him.

Four minutes later, Overmind began to slow, the undulations steadily decreasing until it ceased all movement.

Blastarr had not yet reported in with the security of the Power Base.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0129 Hours

Griffin darted ahead and ducked instinctively as a shot flew over him, narrowing missing his helmet. "We don't need this _now_!" he hissed, firing back and taking down the BioMech that had strayed from the squadron.

Jackal heard Viper and Razor report in over the comm gear as their final charges were deactivated. He moved forward with determination as Griffin picked himself off the floor, muttering obscenities about worthless tin cans. The countdown was droning on inexorably; Jasper reported in. Jackal's eyes caught on the remaining charge and he made short work of it. Griffin was just finishing his own when the countdown stopped abruptly. The computerized voice announced the cancellation of the autodestruct sequence and Griffin let out a low whistle.

"BioDread must've shut it down." He pulled a small generator from his pack and slung it over his shoulder before resealing the pack. "Looks like we're going to be needing this."

Jackal looked at his partner, then spoke into his gear. "Confirmation needed on Chase." They both began trotting in the direction of the command center, poised for an attack by the BioDread or any stray Clickers. The other teams would already be well underway on their own checklists and he wanted this to be pulled off with the precision they were expected to have.

Nineteen seconds later, Jasper's voice exploded in his comm gear. "Chase is still inside, I repeat, Chase is still inside!"

Jackal was stunned. "Coordinates!"

Griffin smacked the communicator he'd slung over his shoulder only minutes before, when it had ceased working.

Chase's voice broke through more static. _"…blow…power source..." _Another harsh burst of static. _"…love you Jon…"_

"Dammit! She's at the power core! She's blowing it manually!" Jackal yelled into his gear, no longer concerned if they were discovered. No one on Power's team was to be inside when the base blew. It had been a direct order. He had not been given a reason and he had not questioned it. He had failed to confirm she had evacuated and he would pay dearly for it.

Jackal and Griffin changed directions immediately, sprinting down the hall from the direction they had just come. "All units, converge on her location!" Jackal ordered. "Prepare to cloak her!" They knew the layout of the base as if they'd lived there themselves and ran with determination. Ten grueling seconds passed before they drew near the room containing the power core, Griffin yanking at the release straps on the outside of his pack to remove a blanket.

They were nearly knocked off their feet as the blast of the power core detonation took effect, shaking the structure of the base so much that chunks of rock and concrete began to rain down on them.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0131 Hours

"NO!" Captain Jonathan Power screamed, nearly leaping from his seat on board his ship, as if he could physically change the course of Corporal Jennifer Chase's actions.

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"No…" A man's soft voice trailed off as he listened to the exchange over the communicator. The signal was lost as all lines of communication at the Power Base were broken. He stared at a small photograph on the table next to his bunk. "What have I done?"

In disbelief, he turned off the communicator and rested his forehead in his hands. Six minutes and twelve seconds later, there was a knock on his door.

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Auxiliary lighting failed and all sounds ceased except for explosions. But the quadrants they were in held. Jackal grabbed the blanket from Griffin and hurled himself through the blown-in door, then stopped short as he heard the unmistakable whine of a digitizer. He caught Jennifer Chase's terrified gaze a split second before the digitization beam pulled her doubled-over body inside Blastarr.

Blastarr gave an almost triumphant laugh, then turned, digitizer still engaged.

Griffin slammed his hand onto the portable generator, engaging the localized EMP. The giant robot flickered as if having a convulsion, then its lights faded and it ceased movement.

Griffin and Jackal were still standing there, stunned, when the rest of the teams appeared mere seconds later. "Patch me through to base," Jackal finally said. Griffin hesitated for only a moment, then pulled a second communicator from his sealed pack. When the signal connected, he motioned to Jackal.

"Sir, the base has been secured. Blastarr has been deactivated but digitized Corporal Chase before we could cloak her." He listened for a moment. "Yes Sir. I don't know the extent of the injuries, but from her position upon digitization, I believe they are serious." He was silent again as the rest of the team looked at him for direction. "Yes Sir. Out."

Jackal looked at the hulking machine. "Let's get it out of here. Rendezvous at Hangar Seven with the Falcon. Remove all pertinent data from the memory banks, plant the pods, and prepare to blow the rest of the base. We have ten minutes."

Jasper, Razor, Blitz and Hummer each grabbed an appendage and began to haul the six hundred pound creature to the hangar. Griffin immediately headed for the command center while Demon returned to the charges. Viper and Jackal exchanged looks, each knowing what the other was thinking. _How could this have happened?_

With a silent shake of his head, Jackal trotted ahead of his teammates to the hangar and began to unload the cargo from the Falcon.

Nine minutes and forty-seven seconds later, onboard the Falcon, he and his crew heard the final charges blow inside the Power Base, effectively destroying or burying every vital piece of equipment that remained.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0206 Hours

Searing heat tore through her, down to the cellular level. Every fiber in every muscle felt as if it was being ripped apart, one at a time. Her bones felt as if they were being crushed, slowly and deliberately. Every neuron fired at the same time, all relaying the same signal. Excruciating pain.

As her body finished the reintegration process, Jennifer Chase doubled over in agony, collapsing on the floor of the chamber. She began to cough and then vomited, tasting the blood that spilled onto the ground. _All broken up inside._ The words she'd said to Jon pounded in her head as hands clamped onto her and lifted her onto a waiting medibunk. She vomited again, even more blood than before. More hands were tugging at her clothing and she opened her bloodshot eyes to stare absently. _My suit. Don't let them destroy my suit._ She half-rolled onto her side in an attempt to expose the fastenings but was immediately forced onto her back again. A hypospray was pressed against her arm but wouldn't inject through the material. It was moved to her neck and she groaned involuntarily as the contents began to course through her system.

She became dimly aware of someone standing right in front of her line of vision, then of a mask being placed over her mouth and nose. Turning her gaze upward, she saw an older man, hair graying at the temples. A long scar ran from his forehead, across his nose and angled over his left cheek. With darkness closing in on her, she gasped three words, loud enough only for him to hear.

"Let me die."

She stared into his emotionless brown eyes, feeling strangely comforted by them. Then the darkness enveloped her, taking her away from the pain shooting through her body and the horrifying thought of what was going to happen to her and her Power Suit.

As her body became limp, the man silently traced the scarred fingers of his left hand along the circuitry of the blue softsuit, locating several connectors and separating them. He rolled the unconscious woman onto her side and pressed his fingers into the small of her back, feeling the soft circuit pack. Pressing several indentations on the pack in quick succession, he heard a beep. She was laid back on the bunk and he traced the circuitry again, in different locations. More connectors were separated.

For a moment, his eyes fixed on her face. So young. Yet so trusted that she was selected to be on that team.

He quickly pulled at the zipper that ran the length of the suit and it was tugged off her arms and legs. Large bruises were visible on her torso and legs; superficial wounds that would be healed with time. Her undergarments were removed and dropped to the floor. The med scanners swept across her body, readings spewing out the internal damage. A tube was placed down her throat and into her lungs, delivering anesthetic to keep her unconscious.

The man stepped back and watched as a blade sliced open her freshly sterilized abdomen. The surgical team worked with precision, uttering only a few words as the seconds passed. Time was not on her side. He smelled the burning tissue as wounds were cauterized and he looked down at his scarred fingers. The odor was seared into his brain from his own hand. His eyes returned to her face.

_You must live. For his sake._

A steady, droning noise shattered the near silence in the room. An electrical charge was applied to her chest and her body arched briefly, then went limp again. The sound didn't change. Another charge was applied. This time, the noise ended and the team went back to their positions.

He stared at her face, unable to pull himself away from her. _You weren't supposed to be there, Ari. Why were you there?_

A hand on his shoulder startled him. "Your work here is complete Doctor. My instructions are to escort you to your quarters or your laboratory." He turned to see a young man in fatigues standing beside him, one hand on the gun in its holster on his waist. With a final look at the young woman, he left the operating room, the blue Power Suit carefully folded in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Minor changes made 5-28-06.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0642 Hours

A lone figure sat at the workbench in the corner of the laboratory, staring blankly across the room at the clock on the wall. The digital readout changed rhythmically; he'd focused on the numbers each time he'd needed to clear his mind and had always found the answer to the problem he was facing.

For the last four hours, thirty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds, the solution had evaded him. He finally turned away and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. One thought had been running through his mind and he couldn't shake it, couldn't change it. _I'm sorry Jon. This wasn't supposed to happen._

On the bench in front of him, folded neatly, was the blue Power Suit he had removed from Corporal Chase. He'd been summoned from his quarters approximately ten minutes before her arrival and informed of the dire situation. The BioDread, Blastarr, had been shut down by an EMP, Chase still inside the digitizer. She had been hurt, but the extent of those injuries had been unknown until she'd been reintegrated. He'd been too far from the scanners to see what the readings had been, but from the intensity of the surgeons, he knew it wasn't good.

Reaching out a scarred hand, he touched the fabric of the suit, remembering how difficult it had been creating them. This was the second one he'd created, with the basic weapons supplied to all the suits as well as the increased strength capacity. It hadn't been damaged physically in the attack or digitization, but there were still a number of tests to perform before he would be convinced it had survived completely intact.

The tests would wait though. He pushed himself off the stool and carried the suit to his office, locking it within a cabinet for later evaluation. He needed to clear his mind before he could concentrate on anything else and the only way to do that was to make sure she was stabilized.

The walk to the medbay was short and the corridors empty; he wasn't surprised by the lack of personnel at such an early hour of the morning. The medbay itself was quiet, with only a few medics assisting the patients. They acknowledged his presence, but otherwise paid no attention to him as he walked through. He stopped at the last cot on the right and looked at the pouches hanging above her, lines snaking down into her arms. Blood, hydrating solutions, antibacterials and antivirals. The knowledge base of medicine had changed dramatically in the last hundred years, but the fundamentals of it remained the same: when the body needed vital solutions such as these, the best way to deliver them was still slowly and steadily into a vein.

He saw her vital signs on the monitor and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. When he'd checked on her two hours before, her blood pressure and temperature had both been elevated. Now they were at normal levels.

Without a sound, he sat down on the chair beside her, staring at her still form covered in blankets. She was frighteningly pale and the bruises on her arms looked even harsher against the white of the linens. Her hair had been pulled out of the ponytail and now lay down around her shoulders. He brushed a few stray strands of it off her forehead, lightly touching her skin with his fingertips.

Her eyelids flickered at the touch and opened for only a second. But her blue eyes caught his and she breathed out softly, her lips forming a single whispered word. "Mentor…" Then she was asleep again.

Relief washed over him, although his expression remained passive. He'd learned long ago to keep his emotions hidden and it had become easier with time. The moment she'd spoken, however, it took every ounce of effort not to grab her tightly in his arms and hold her. She was alive, she was in stable condition and she had recognized him._ She's alive Jon. And I'm going to take care of her until I can return her safely to your arms. I promise you that._

He stayed beside her for several more minutes before leaving as quietly as he'd arrived.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0647 Hours

The sky was still dark as the Jumpship set down beside the mountain that had hidden the Power Base for nearly two decades. Rocks and other pieces of debris were scattered for several hundred meters, hinting at the devastation that had occurred when the charges were blown.

Inside the ship, Major Matthew Masterson made the final checks before he shut down all nonessential systems. He looked at their fuel levels and closed his eyes momentarily. The weapons were running low, the shields were buckling and now their fuel was less than one-quarter optimum level.

But how could he say no? He'd seen Jonathan Power's eyes when Jennifer sent her last transmission from within the base. He'd felt the ache in his own heart when she'd said goodbye and heard the younger man cry out when the detonations began. He'd watched Robert Baker and Michael Ellis silently load the unmanned skybike into the bay of the Jumpship, the loss apparent in their expressions.

The captain had initially said they would go to the Passages to regroup, but only minutes later gave the order to return to the base. No one had questioned or challenged him; it could be a suicide mission and they all knew it. And not one of them cared. She had given everything for them and they would do whatever they could for her now.

The stillness in the cabin of the Jumpship during the trip was staggering. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt had seen the empty seat beside him and fought to maintain his composure. A few tears managed to streak down his cheek and he brushed them away without the rest of the crew noticing, although he doubted it would have mattered to them anyway. For the duration of the trip, he'd kept his eyes focused on the panels in front of him, away from her seat and the agony that was growing deep inside him.

"Scout, start scanning for Clickers and BioDreads." Matt turned his attention to Baker, who acknowledged the order and began working with the sensors at his station. Masterson saw Power get up from his seat and head for the door release. "Jon, give us a few minutes – "

Power cut him off, his voice low, his back to the team. "She doesn't have a few minutes, Hawk." His hand was already reaching for the keypad to unlock the door.

"We need to make sure the area is safe, Jon! We can't just go running in there without any idea of what we're up against!" Hawk got up from his seat, intent on stopping the younger man from acting rashly.

Power's rage flared and his blaster was in his hand, trained on his most trusted friend. "I don't give a damn if Dread's in there with his entire army! I am getting her out of there!"

Hawk had reacted as quickly as Power and his own weapon was leveled at the leader of their team. "Lower your gun _right now_ Captain! That is a direct order from a superior officer!" he snapped.

Jon clenched his jaw, seething. "_I_ am the commander of this group and – "

"_You_ have been relieved of command! I will not allow a member of this team to be placed in jeopardy due to irrational behavior. Lower your weapon or I will have Lieutenant Ellis stun and restrain you!" Matt kept his tone sharp, but decreased the volume significantly.

Jon's posture didn't change and his eyes still flashed with rage.

"Every second you waste doing this is another second that we're not in there looking for Jennifer." Hawk knew this was the deciding moment. If Power didn't respond to this, he would have to order Tank to shoot. "Now _drop your weapon_!"

Power angrily jammed the blaster back into its holster, fighting the urge to punch the wall of the ship. Or Masterson.

Hawk maintained his stance. "Scout?"

"I'm picking up nothing on the perimeter or within hangar seven. I can't be sure of anything else until we get inside." Scout finally turned his attention away from the console to stare at the three other men in the ship. He saw two blasters aimed at Power, whose glare could melt metal.

Masterson nodded. "We'll take that chance." His eyes had remained locked on Power's. "We're going to get her out of there Captain. But you make a move like that again and you'll be restrained before you can blink. Is that clear?"

"Yes _sir_." Jonathan bit off the last word, allowing his anger at the change in command to resonate through the cramped quarters.

Hawk holstered his own gun and saw Tank do the same. "We're going in with suits on. I want a full medi-pack, blanket and lamps. Arm yourselves with as many laser stars and therm grenades as you can carry."

Less than two minutes later, they left the camouflaged Jumpship and headed for what remained of the Power Base.

The charges had been carefully located to seal the base upon detonation. Key areas throughout the base would have been destroyed, but the integrity of the structure itself would have remained. Theoretically, the only way into the base after the charges were blown was through an escape hatch from the ground hangar. It too would have been buried, but if the location and the entrance code were known, it could be dug out.

These thoughts ran through Scout's mind as he led the way to the base of the mountain. If they could get in, if they could get through to the proper level, if they didn't run into any of Dread's troops, if Blastarr had been taken down, they might have a chance. _She_ might have a chance. _Too many "ifs". _He forced himself to focus on the task at hand and pulled out his scanner. Feeding the coordinates of the door into the unit, he watched the screen and waited for it to triangulate the location under the fallen rock. When its location was determined, they began to dig in earnest, shoring up fallen rocks and dirt to prevent them from being engulfed by any more debris while still maintaining a careful watch for any of Dread's troopers.

"It's too quiet out here," Tank said to Hawk as they both hauled large rocks away.

Hawk nodded. "Dread's up to something. We're finished if he's inside."

"We can't just leave her here." Tank hesitated for just a moment, then continued with his work, seeing Power digging furiously as they got closer to the door.

"We're not going to leave her here. She's given too much to this team." Hawk saw Tank's nod of agreement and they both became silent once again.

Almost twenty minutes from the time they'd started, the door became visible and Scout set to work, manually keying in the combination for the lock. This particular mechanism had been designed with the knowledge that power would have been lost to the base. The tumblers inside the lock worked in a series and had an infinite number of possibilities. Without prior knowledge of the code sequence, the lock would have remained tightly sealed. Under Scout's careful manipulation, it gave way within thirty seconds.

Switching to night vision, Scout eased the door open and entered the inner chamber. The next door, only six meters ahead, was still intact. Blaster in hand, he opened the door, Hawk directly behind him. They slipped into the hangar and quickly checked their surroundings, knowing Tank and Power were following. There was no sound except for the sporadic hiss of sparks from above. The only light was provided by the sparks as well.

Hawk signaled them out of the hangar and Scout took the lead, scanning for BioMechs and overunits, Power on his heels. The air was filled with dust, dirt and smoke, but still breathable. For how long was questionable. With no sign of troopers, they made their way to the elevator. Scout opened the access panel on the side and pushed himself halfway through the hole, peering upward. "Looks like we're clear through to the top. We'll have to take our chances that the ladder is intact," he announced, then pulled himself fully into the shaft and began to climb. The rest of the team followed and they quickly found themselves in the main hangar, surveying the damage that had been done.

The entrance had been sealed by an avalanche of rock, obliterating the area where the Jumpship had docked. Looking up, they saw that the maintenance bay for the XT-7 had collapsed onto the skybike bay. Huge beams of metal and jagged shards of rock stuck out from the ceiling as well as the skybike bay.

Tearing himself away from the devastation, Scout continued monitoring as he picked his way toward the exit. Only seconds later, he felt the rubble shift under his right foot and lost his balance. A strong arm caught him before he fell completely, pulling him upright and holding him there until he could regain his footing. He turned to acknowledge his teammate. "Thanks Captain."

Power merely nodded. The anger was gone from his expression, replaced by worry.

The team advanced slowly down the corridor that led from the hangar, picking their way carefully past the chunks of rock and metal that had been jolted free when the explosions had ripped through the base. The layers of debris made the footing precarious and each step had to be deliberate. Sparks rained down on them as conduits flared, the power supply chambers releasing their last charges before dying in the ruins.

Scout looked ahead, the acrid smoke stinging his nose and eyes. Dust continued to trickle down from the floors above and he coughed to clear his lungs as best he could. About thirty meters in front of them was a wall of rubble, nearly obliterating the path. He swore softly, but it echoed through the stillness as if he'd shouted it. Looking back, he caught the grim expresssion on Power's face before he turned his attention to Tank. "How much power is left in your suit?"

Ellis's jaw set firmly. "We'll get through."

They continued ahead in silence until they reached the impasse. Scout and Tank scanned it, looking for the best area to begin their work. Each of them knew that a set of charges had gone off here, making the entire area unstable.

Scout was the first to speak, gesturing toward the center. "Our best bet is to push through there, clear out only a small section at the top. We can crawl through if we can make sure the area underneath is shored up enough."

Hawk looked at Power, seeing the younger man's stare focused on the pile. He'd been disturbingly quiet since the exchange on the Jumpship and Matt felt the knot intensify in his stomach. "Do it," he said to Scout.

For the next ten minutes, the four men hauled, pulled and pushed their way through the rock at the center, creating what amounted to steps on the mound for easier access. Scout studied the other side after they had broken through, then sat back on the top step. "Same thing on the other side. We can slide down now, but we're going to need to shore it up to get back through."

Hawk nodded. "Let's get moving." There had been almost no conversation and they were all coughing hard, their lungs burning from the smoke, dust and exertion. Two short minutes later, they were all through and once again began the slow trek. They could all clearly see their destination another forty meters ahead. The doors that should have been closed were blown apart, a jagged hole burned into the right one.

Power picked up his pace, passing Scout, who raised a hand of caution, then lowered it. He knew there was no point in telling him to slow down. They were too close to where she was presumed to be.

Power stopped for a moment just inside the doors and surveyed the damage through his night vision. Although he could make out the pieces of equipment inside, the floor was buried under a layer of rock and metal. He flipped the visor up on his helmet, pulled a light from the pack and switched it on, seeing Hawk do the same.

They all saw the wall at the left end of the room, crumbling inward from the blast they had just dug through. Part of the ceiling had collapsed and settled on the landslide the wall had created. Hawk's light trained on the wall in the rear of the room, where the power core control panel was located. Holes were blasted in the wall and the panel itself.

"Weak heat signal three meters to the left of the panel." Scout pointed to the floor and began to make his way in the direction he indicated, adjusting the sensors on his visor.

Power's light shifted to the floor in that area, slowly searching through the debris. His breath caught in his throat at a hint of black among the rock. He quickly picked his way across the room, pulling off his helmet and dropping it beside the light amid the rubble. As his gloved fingers began to pull away chunks of rock, he fought the desperation that was rising in his chest. "Jennifer, please don't be here."

A boot took shape under his hands. Scout was suddenly across from him and they both began to dig. Hawk's light was trained on them and they saw the khaki fabric, heard Power's soft begging. "No...Jennifer...please be alive..."

His heart banging wildly, Power quickly worked his way along the body. A blonde ponytail became visible, then the profile of her face. Blood had congealed from a gash in her temple and her eyes were open, staring vacantly at the rocks in front of her.

"Jennifer!" He ripped off his gloves, frantically searching her throat for a pulse. Her skin was still warm beneath his fingers. "Come on Jennifer, answer me!"

Scout stopped his digging, staring at the fabric of her uniform. Holes were burned in her back and he knew they were exit wounds. He looked up at Hawk, then Tank. Both stood silently near them, their composures failing as Power's voice slowly faded.

Without warning, Power picked up the nearest piece of rock and hurled it at the wall, pieces ricocheting in all directions as it shattered on impact. "Why! Why did you have to stay here?" His voice cracked on the words. He gently slipped his hands under her body and rolled her over, Scout cradling her head against the movement.

"Pilot…" Scout lightly stroked her hair, staring at her broken body. Her eyes were fixed upward, unseeing, the pupils fully dilated until almost no blue was visible. Blood had trailed out of her mouth and dried in a smear across her chin. The tan of her flight suit was ripped to shreds, her blue softsuit visible through the fabric. Her chest, stomach and abdomen were riddled with laser burns, blood soaked and drying in a dark stain across her entire front side.

Jon reached out and closed her eyes, then scooped her body into his arms. He held her tightly against his chest, his lips pressed to her forehead, his eyes closed. They saw the tears escape down his face, cutting through dirt in jagged streaks, but he made no sound. When he opened his eyes again only seconds later, he stood and turned toward the door.

Scout scrubbed at his own eyes, feeling the sting of tears mix with the dirt and smoke. He grabbed Power's helmet from the floor and saw Tank reach for the light, then turn it off. They followed him silently and made their way back to the rock pile in the center of the corridor. There was very little talk as they worked quickly to create a series of steps to get back through the obstruction.

Hawk dared a look at Power while he hauled chunks of rock and metal into position. He was leaned against the wall, eyes closed, forehead against Jennifer's. Her wounds weren't visible the way he held her and it looked like she was merely asleep, wrapped safely in the arms of the man she loved. How he wished she were only asleep. He turned back to his work before the others could see the tears welling up in his eyes again.

Fifteen agonizingly slow minutes later, they were back at the Jumpship. Power went to the hold without a word, Jennifer still cradled in his arms. "Make sure we're clear of any Dread forces," Hawk said to the other two before following him. They nodded and immediately went to their stations.

Scout turned to Tank for only a moment. "I didn't see Blastarr anywhere." He saw the older man shake his head. "Hopefully it's buried somewhere in that pile and we won't have to deal with it again." Within a minute, Matt had returned and took his position at the flight controls. The Jumpship lifted off the ground and headed west, the sun just beginning to crack the horizon behind it.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: As is usually the case, fun stuff has had to take a back seat to reality. Thank you for your patience, your kind words and the gentle proddings. I won't make promises that I can't keep: this story will continue to be moved along but I don't know how quickly I will get to it. This is just an incredibly busy time for me and I don't want folks to think that chapters are going to appear a few weeks apart. (Boo hiss! I know, as much as I would like to just devote all my time to this, there really are other things that must take priority.)

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47-12 Mark 25; 0753 Hours

The sun was already over the horizon when the jumpship landed alongside the lake. Inside, Hawk shut down the ship and turned in his seat to look at his teammates. His voice was soft, filled with emotion, when he finally spoke.

"This is where we used to come to vacation. Before the war, when the kids were younger. Jon wants to bury Jennifer here. I couldn't deny him this."

He looked down at his hands, then back at Scout and Tank a few moments later. "I had to pull rank because I didn't want him to get himself killed. I'm giving him back command of the team as soon as he's thinking rationally again."

Scout was already shaking his head. "You had to do it Hawk. He wouldn't have listened to Tank or I."

Hawk nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what we're going to do, where we're going to go. The only safe place is the Passages, but we can't stay there too long. We can't risk the lives of so many people."

"Maybe we could contact Elzer's group. Or even Cypher's," Tank said quietly.

Scout blew out a deep breath, shaking his head slightly as he leaned forward in his seat. "We don't even know what's going on with Cypher right now. I've been trying to raise his group on the comm but I'm not getting anything."

Hawk looked at them hard. "I don't need to tell you that we're in serious trouble if Dread has the colonel. Thank God he doesn't know where the Passages are, but he's got information that will destroy the Resistance. For all we know, that's how Dread found the base. We had Cypher there and maybe he managed to figure out where it was, even though we took every precaution in the book." He stopped for a moment before continuing. "We need to know what was on that disk from Locke."

"It's possible Pilot had Mentor analyze it before the base was found. It might be in his data flows." Tank looked at the bag on the floor beside him, seeing the remaining Power Suits and the backup of Mentor's system.

Scout nodded. "I can check into it, but I'm going to need some time to get the Jumpship's system reconfigured to work with his. We had it set up to interface through the comm channels before, but I'm going to have to get him into the mainframe now."

"Alright." Hawk's expression turned grim. "We'll head to the Passages once we finish here." He pushed himself out of the copilot's chair, looking toward the hold of the ship. "I'm going to talk to Jon."

"Let us know where he wants her…" Scout trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He'd been able to push the loss aside while they made their next plans, but now it was returning, stabbing deep inside his gut. "Just…tell us and we'll get the area ready." He looked down at his hands, then back up at Hawk. "Matt, if losing her is tearing _us_ up this bad, what's it doing to him?"

Though none of them had ever acknowledged what was happening between their two team mates, they'd all seen it and knew the love Pilot finally vocalized in her last moments had been felt equally by Power.

The older man clenched his jaw, swallowing hard against the emotions that were welling up. "I can only imagine," he lied to the younger man, unwilling to tell him what a loss like that felt like.

He headed to the rear of the ship, where the medibunk was located. Power's back was to him as he sat on a crate beside the bunk. Jennifer's hand was wrapped in both of his and he was staring at her.

Masterson suddenly felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He saw himself, years before, kneeling near the bodies of his wife, daughter and son. He'd held Joanna's hand just as Power was doing now. He knew the pain Jon was going through and wanted desperately to take it away from him, though he knew it was impossible.

"Jon?" Hawk came up beside him, lightly squeezing the younger man's shoulder.

Power hesitated a moment, then turned his head toward him. Tears were welling up in his already red-rimmed eyes and his chin trembled from the effort of keeping his feelings locked inside. His cheeks were wet with the tears he'd already shed. "Just a few more minutes with her. Please?"

Hawk hesitated and then he nodded. "Did you have a special place in mind? Tank and Scout…"

He stopped talking, unable to finish the words, just as Scout had been unable to say it earlier. Tears began to fall and he looked at Jennifer's body on the bunk. Jon had washed the dirt and blood from her face and with the blanket carefully tucked around her, she once again looked like she was merely recovering from taking one too many hits to her suit. He reached out and touched her cheek, his other hand still on Jon's shoulder.

Jon's eyes followed Hawk's movement and he felt the tears roll down once again. "I was thinking near the maple, if it's still there."

Matt nodded. The maple tree had been a favorite for climbing and hiding as the kids had grown. His own precious Katie had boldly followed her older brother Mitch and then became stranded in that tree, too frightening to climb down. Matt had had to scale the limbs himself to pluck her out of the leaves and carry her down, piggy-back.

It had provided shade for picnics and naps, burned the seemingly endless supply of childhood energy and would now be the place Jennifer would find peace.

"Alright," he said softly. He stared at her and slowly exhaled. "We'll finish this for you, Jennifer. I promise you." He simply stood there, trying to memorize every detail of her face. For a moment, he saw Katie. Jennifer was as old as Katie would have been, had the same honey-blonde hair. He hadn't wanted to admit it to anyone, even himself, but he'd grown attached to her so quickly because of their resemblence.

"I never told you, but I loved you as if you were my own daughter." He bent down and gently kissed her forehead, stroking her hair. "Goodbye sweetheart." He turned away, squeezing Jon's shoulder again before he quietly left the ship.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0804 Hours

Stuart Power sat on the corner of the desk in his office, staring intently at the monitor on the wall. The results of the tests he'd run on Jennifer Chase's power suit filled the screen. He'd only heard rumors of people who had been pulled out of the digitization storage banks, but what he had learned was that they were reintegrated exactly as they had gone in, with intact clothing, jewelry and medical implants. This partially assuaged his fears regarding the circuitry of the suit. As each of the tests had been completed, he'd begun to relax. The conductance and resistance measurements had come back well within acceptable limits for the circuits and there were no fractures in any of the connectors. Detailed surface scanning of the fabric detected no breakdown in the material. Although the circuit pack held no charge, its memory chip contained the inaccessible imprint of Chase's mitochondrial DNA and the genetic map of her X chromosomes. The only way to know if the chip had survived intact would be to put Chase in the suit and recharge it, then energize the system. The suit would randomly scan cells in her body and match the information to that contained on the chip; built-in parameters allowed for aberrations that inevitably occurred within the genome as the cells divided. Within seconds, the suit would be able to detect whether the body enclosed within it was that of the person encoded on the chip.

That would be the final test. If he could convince the Council to allow Chase access to the suit, he would make a slight modification to the system, preventing her from being harmed if the chip had been damaged.

The Council.

Power closed his eyes, his mind replaying events from nearly two decades prior is if they had occurred the previous week. The world had been in turmoil, but intact. Wars raged between countries, fought by robot warriors, instead of humans. These soldiers had come to be called BioMechs for their ability to adopt the actions of a person, yet be completely mechanized to remove the "emotional" aspect.

The leaders of many of the world's countries had grown weary of the constant battles and the lack of resolution to the underlying causes. These leaders had developed an unofficial coalition in the hope that they could put an end to the fighting. Many of the smaller countries of the world saw this unification as a threat to their own defenses and fought harder against the larger, more powerful nations.

The coalition had been named the Unified Countries – the "UC", as many had come to refer to it – and the leaders of it the Council. Discussions had begun amongst the Council members of a "good faith" gesture – something they would be able to do that would alleviate the distrust.

Stuart had been shocked when he and his colleague, Dr. Lyman Taggart, had been approached by the President of the United States. The US had been one of the four founding countries of the UC and remained one of the strongest as well as one of the most trusted among non-member nations. The President had requested that the two computer geniuses go before the UC Council to discuss the creation of a supercomputer that would be able to control the mechanized armies. Initially, it would be used only on those under the direction of the Unified Countries. They would be shut down, unable to fight without the proper authorization from all leaders. Once the outside nations realized the UC would use combat only as a last resort, the hope remained that they would be more willing to negotiate instead of fight. As each country agreed to this, their BioMechs would come under the control of the supercomputer and when all had agreed, the Mechs would simultaneously be destroyed with a single command. And finally, peace would be achieved.

He and Taggart had discussed the possibilities for days. What if the computer malfunctioned and the BioMechs went rogue? What if none of the non-member nations would comply and the UC was caught unguarded? What if the UC turned on everyone and used the amassed warriors to take over smaller, less defendable countries?

He had talked it over with Morganna as well. They had discussed all the scenarios he and Lyman had come up with, as well as what it would mean to their relationship. They both knew it would mean endless hours apart, yet she'd urged him to take on the task. Especially if it meant giving their son a chance at a more peaceful existence.

The planning stage had taken two long months to complete, yet they felt confident in the outcome and presented the schematic to the Council for its approval. After that meeting, they found themselves with a team of electrical and mechanical engineers at their disposal, as well as unlimited resources.

As time had passed, Stuart had noticed a change in Taggart's demeanor. Although he'd always been brash, Lyman had grown more zealous in his desire to donate his own engrams and synaptic firing patterns to establish the artificial neural network needed by the computer. Power had strongly cautioned against it, knowing that the donor of the engrams would need to be level-headed in times of duress. Taggart had never fit that bill and Power doubted that even he himself would be a prime candidate. There was one possibility among their staff, but the validation process was incomplete. He'd urged Taggart to run more simulations and install additional protective measures against infiltration from external sources - hackers. Hackers. The last thing they would need was for a computer to be created that could control an entire army, only to be taken over by a renegade group that desired nothing more than total world domination.

Power had gone to the UC leaders and warned them of Taggart's change. He'd tried to impress upon them that Taggart was becoming more of a liability to the program than an asset. He'd been there when Taggart's neural scan had been done and they'd all decided his patterns had been too unstable to use. That the instability could cause significant fluctuations in the programming and send out orders that did not exist. He'd informed them of programming within the computer that hadn't been agreed upon and when he had questioned Taggart, there were always excuses or denials. He'd requested that Taggart be watched by other members of the team, those he trusted both implicitly and explicitly.

The leaders had been divided on how to proceed, knowing how close they were to seeing the project completed. Stuart had doubted they even comprehended the gravity of the situation and continued to watch his longtime friend and colleague grow more disillusioned with the UC, insinuating that it was _them _they should be concerned with, not hackers.

In the weeks that followed, Taggart had become aggressive, almost hostile, in his desire to give complete control to the computer. Power had again gone to the Council to express his concerns once again and finally, Taggart was brought before the full committee. He had assured them Power was being overprotective of the computer; assured them that there were no problems. Gave them his word that the computer would function as intended.

In their desire to bring the project to an end, the majority had sided with Taggart.

Stuart had left the meeting weary, both physically and mentally, and sought out his wife. Morganna had been there for him during the entire process and knew every step they had taken. She had known Taggart since they'd first started working together at the university level. Although she'd been unsure of their alliance as partners in a technological collaboration, she'd given her blessing to her husband. Once again, she had held steadfast in her belief that Stuart was doing the right thing and that keeping a close eye on Taggart was of the utmost importance.

When he had returned to the lab later that evening, Power had found Taggart hooked up to the computer, in a trancelike state. Panic had swept through him as he realized what had happened. Yet Taggart had "woken up" and appeared to be unchanged by the linking. The computer, dubbed "Overmind" in the early days of the development, came online and diagnostic tests gave no indication of malfunction. Power immediately informed the Council and they were elated; Power had felt no such joy. He began to wonder if the Council had even heard a word he'd said for the past three months.

In the middle of that very night, Taggart gave the order to Overmind to take control of the UC armies. And the Metal Wars had begun.

As the mechanized soldiers marched through the countries of the world in blitzkrieg fashion, the Council had turned to Power to provide counter-measures against Overmind and Taggart. He had agreed, provided they give protection to his wife and son.

And now, almost twenty years later, the war continued. The world had been devastated, the Council had been decimated and he had lost the two people he loved the most.

Forcing himself out of the reverie, he focused again on the readings in front of him. He needed to speak with the remainder of the Council. He closed and secured the files, gathered his notes and left for the impromptu meeting. The path to the briefing room led him past the medical ward and he hesitated at the door. She would be asleep and he didn't want to wake her. It would be the fourth time that he'd stopped by since she'd been moved to the recovery area. _Let them yell at me for being overprotective, _he thought and slid his access card through the reader.

The door to the infirmary opened in front of him and Stuart entered, scanning the bunks quickly. Hers was empty.

A nurse in green medical scrubs walked silently toward him, noticing the disturbed look on his face. "May I help you, Doctor?"

His brown eyes held hers. "Where is Corporal Chase?" Anxiety began to slowly creep forward.

"She was transferred to another facility an hour ago."

A chill ran through him, forcing himself to maintain his composure. "_What_ other facility?"

The nurse shook her head. "I was not given that information."

He turned without another word and left. _I shouldn't have left you alone. I swore I wouldn't let anything happen to you._ Walking quickly, he navigated the maze of corridors, working his way to the far end of the complex, which housed the hangars and the briefing rooms. In the six minutes it had taken him, he managed to calm himself only slightly. He would need more control over his emotions if he was going to locate Chase.

The door to the "war room" slid open silently with his authorization. He was surprised to find all three of the remaining Council members seated at the table in the center of the room. He'd expected one of them and had hoped to persuade him to call the others.

"Ah, Stuart. We were just talking about you." Stanton Sheppard, leader of the Council and former president of the United States, turned in his chair slightly to stare at the newcomer. Though he and Power were the same age, the gray hair that covered Sheppard's head made him appear older by at least ten years.

"Where is she?" Power said, nearly cutting him off mid-sentence.

Sheppard folded his hands on the table in front of him, his expression filled with curiosity. "Who are you referring to, Doctor?"

"Don't feign ignorance Sheppard. It doesn't suit you." He glared at the man, unimpressed by the starched and freshly pressed suit, the clean-shaven face and the appearance of utter calm. "Corporal Chase. Where was she transferred and why wasn't I informed of this?"

Sheppard sat back in his chair, studying the man before him. In the seventeen years that he'd known Power, only the outward appearance had changed. It had been unintentional and without his consent, but Power had come to accept it.

Power had been unconscious when the team located him inside Volcania after the explosion and had remained in a medically induced coma for nearly three weeks while his body fought to recover from the injuries he'd sustained. Yet he _had _recovered. The surgeons had smoothed away most of the burned skin from his face, arm and chest, but there had been little they could do for his left hand. It was still functional and that was all that had mattered to Power when he'd awoken. His face was now clean-shaven and his brown hair closely cropped to minimize the loss of the hair follicles, yet his eyes retained the same intensity as before. The fire that raged inside, the passion that drove him initially, was still there and was bubbling to the surface.

Sheppard saw it smoldering, ready to erupt. "The decision was not yours to make, Stuart."

Stuart felt the anger rising, yet forced it down. "She is a member of my son's team. He needs her expertise to fight against Taggart." He crossed his arms over his chest, staring straight into Sheppard's eyes, aware of the attention the other two members of the Council focused on him as well.

"She's also in love with your son. Do you suppose he feels the same?"

"This is irrelevant to the discussion. What have you done with her?"

Sheppard clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Humor an old friend Stuart. How do you suppose your son feels about this woman?"

Stuart resisted the urge to grab the other man by the collar and shake him as he responded, "I wouldn't know. I haven't spoken to Jon in fifteen years."

A half-smile turned up the corners of Sheppard's mouth. He settled back into his chair. "And why should we believe you when you say that, Stuart?"

Power hesitated for a moment, seeing Sheppard's gaze sharpen ever so slightly beneath the smile. He'd seen that look before and wanted to explode, yet reined in the anger, knowing it would get him nowhere. "Because I've never given you a reason to doubt me or my dedication to this fight. If you will recall, Jon thinks that I'm dead. I've gone along with this little situation you've created to protect him and his team. I do believe that your exact words were 'As long as you cooperate with us, we will ensure no harm comes to Jon or any member of his group'. I've given up _fifteen years _with my son to get rid of Taggart and now one of Jon's team has been severely injured. I want to know where she is and why she was moved."

Sheppard leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers forming a peak in front of his face. His blue eyes pierced into Stuart's. "Yes, Stuart, you _have_ shared your expertise with us. We had expected this war to end relatively quickly and that you would be reunited with your son." He paused. "We had expected to rebuild what Taggart has destroyed and allow those that remained to enjoy a safe, new world in which to live."

"I don't understand why you're speaking in the past tense Stanton. All the plans that the Council has put forth _will_ be realized, but we have to take Taggart out of the picture. We have to give Jon all the resources he needs, the personnel, the weapons! _How many times_ do we have to go over this Stanton? How do you expect him to finish the job now that he's lost not only his base, but all his weapons, contacts, tactical information and a member of his team?" Stuart nearly slammed his fists on the table in front of Sheppard.

"Your son is a resourceful man. At your unfortunate disappearance, he channeled that anger into the completion of the Power Base, the assembly of a formidable team and has defeated Dread at every turn in the New Order plan."

Stuart stared at Sheppard, his hands splayed across the tabletop. His patience was gone. "Where is Corporal Chase?" he demanded with finality.

"Jonathan will go on without her; we will see to that."

Stuart's voice was low, almost a growl. "If you've done _anything_ to harm her – "

Sheppard began to chuckle. "You are hardly in a position to threaten us, Stuart." He saw the confusion in Power's eyes and activated the monitor on the wall. "Stuart, would you tell us what this is?"

Power averted only his eyes to glance at the screen. "Gibberish," he replied hastily.

"So we thought as well." He typed for several seconds and the screen cleared, then was filled with words.

Stuart straightened as he read, feeling the color drain from his face.

Stanton began to read out loud. "Blastarr and squadron of mechs deployed to Power Base. Warn team of attack. Confirm Arianna's safety." He finished the message, then he slowly turned to face Power again. "This transmission was intercepted from Volcania." He was silent for a moment. "Corporal Chase's full name is Jennifer Arianna Chase, is it not?" With no response from Power, Sheppard spoke again. "What interest would someone at Volcania have in the well-being of a member of Jonathan's team?"

Stuart Gordon Power knew there would be no way out of this one. "Where is she?" he asked again, this time, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes turning cold. "Jennifer Chase is being debriefed."

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47-12 Mark 25; 0824 Hours

Hawk stared into the sun as it ascended slowly into the sky. It was the first time they'd seen it in almost a month. The times they'd been out during the day, it had been gray and rainy; most of their recent missions had been at night, when the risk of being seen was lowest. It was almost like Jennifer was sending them a message. They were still fighting for something. The sun had broken another day and there were still trees and grass and _people_ to save it for and share it with.

He felt sweat trickle down the side of his face and absently brushed it away with his sleeve. Scout and Tank had done the bulk of the digging, but as each of them had gone inside to see Jennifer one last time, he'd taken over, shoveling dirt and rocks with everything he had to release some of the anger and pain.

Movement at the entrance to the Jumpship caught his attention and he saw Jon step out, Jennifer's blanket wrapped body cradled tightly in his arms. The younger man looked devastated, but the tears had stopped. At least for the present time. He saw Scout move toward the hole they'd dug, getting ready to jump inside and accept Pilot's body.

"Rob." Power's soft voice caught their attention as if he'd yelled. He shook his head slightly, his eyes on the grave.

Scout took a couple of steps back while Jon moved forward, resting Jennifer carefully on the ground at the edge of the hole. He lowered himself inside, then lifted her into his arms one final time, hugging her fiercely against his chest. Matt's heart began to ache and he felt the tears fall once again as Jon kissed her cheek softly before placing her down. Tank and Scout each reached out their hands to pull him out and they watched in silence as Power added the first shovel of dirt to her grave. None of them spoke as they finished the task, but the pain was evident on each of their faces.

As Hawk boarded the Jumpship behind the rest of the team, he wondered if this would be the final blow that would bring about the destruction of Dread. Or if it would be the blow that would destroy the man he'd come to think of as his own son. He passed Jonathan on his way to the copilot's seat and saw the look in his eyes.

For the first time since Matthew Masterson had met Jonathan Power, he realized that the younger man had lost his reason to live. Not even the death of his father had caused him to look so utterly defeated.

Hawk felt shaken to his soul as he set in the coordinates for the Passages.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's notes: Kerry Stubbs is the creator of the characters Kiara 'Lark' Rutledge and Neil 'Fox' Lockhart, as well as James "Jay" Heyward Johnson IV and Darryl "Chief" Watts from the team at the Passages. Kerry has written many stories about these characters, with one story in particular dealing with Lark's reaction to Pilot's death. This story is titled "Thru the Valley" and appears at wwwDOTcaptainpowerDOTcom. (Sneaky, I know.) Once there, click on the "Captain Power Fan Fiction Archive" link. "Thru the Valley" can be accessed there.

I greatly appreciate her agreement to let me use these characters within this story. They will all appear more in subsequent chapters.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0921 Hours

Stuart Power stood before the three remaining members of the Council, struggling to maintain his composure as his mind churned through the events of the past ten hours.

The foundation that he'd laid fifteen years earlier would be broken if he chose the wrong words now.

"Who sent you the message?" Stanton Sheppard asked coolly. "And I trust you will tell us the truth on this, Stuart. I don't need to remind you that Corporal Chase's well-being is in a critical state at the moment."

Power's eyes flicked to the remaining two members of the Council, Josef Kowalczyk and Stephen Badasu, who had been silent to this point. They remained as stoic as they'd been throughout the meeting, though their eyes still drilled straight through him with their intensity.

Stuart's mouth was dry; his hands cold. He knew what the Council was capable of doing, knew that Sheppard meant the threat that had been leveled against Chase. His voice was clear when he spoke. "Claire Wheeler."

"And who is Claire Wheeler?" The irritation at having to ask the question was subtle, but present, in Sheppard's voice.

"One of the highest ranking overunits within the medical corps in the Dread empire." Power held firm. The slight shift in their eyes told him he'd caught the Council off guard with his response.

Sheppard continued, "And what is Overunit Wheeler's interest in Corporal Chase?"

"Biologically, she is the mother of Corporal Chase."

The daggers returned in the eyes of the men before him.

Stuart forced down the nausea that crept up his throat. He had to give just enough information to keep Jennifer alive. And not a word more.

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47-12 Mark 26; 1451 Hours

Overunit Claire Wheeler stood silently at the console, her gray eyes focused on the panel in front of her. The readings were just as they'd been the previous one hundred and twelve times she'd checked them – all within normal parameters. She confirmed her review of the diagnostic data with a single stroke of the keypad, watched as her signature appeared on the screen.

Her eyes moved from the screen to the form on the table several feet away. The light from the room glinted off the shiny black exterior from every direction.

_This_ was the culmination of nearly two decades of research by dozens of the brightest people throughout the world, some who had willingly sacrificed themselves to advance the cause. Without their dedication, this moment would not have been realized.

The cerebral transfer from the organic body of Lyman Taggart to the fully mechanized Lord Dread had been difficult at best. Though the simulation of the procedure had been successfully completed hundreds of times, a simulation was not the real thing. She had tried to impress that upon the assisting personnel, including the two Overunits who were superior in rank to her. Her speaking out of turn had nearly been deemed insubordination, but due to the nature of the task, she had been spared a reprimand. Though she had felt confident in the abilities of her colleagues, she inwardly questioned her own prowess as a surgeon.

Her fears had gone unshared and in the end, had been unwarranted. The transfer procedure had been as mentally and physically challenging as the simulations had indicated. Several of the negative scenarios that had been raised in the simulations were encountered in the actual transfer. Though the personnel had been somewhat shaken, they had been prepared for all possibilities. They had completed their work and begun the process of monitoring the recovery of what was now a fully mechanized Lord Dread.

Wheeler herself had been scrutinizing the systems since the surgery had been completed and would continue to do so for the first twenty-four hours. Though exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm her senses, she pressed forth, knowing that she herself was being monitored by others loyal to Dread. If she showed any chink in her armor, she would be brought down, like so many others before her.

Her eyes shifted to the countdown on the monitor. Sixty-five hours and thirty-seven minutes remained.

The minimum amount of time needed for stabilization of the organic matter with the data exchange matrix had been calculated to be sixty-seven hours. Nearly three days. Optimal conditions would be achieved within an additional forty-three hours if the machine remained in "sleep" mode; that had been deemed unacceptable by Dread when the simulations had first been initiated.

Wheeler and her team had continued to modify the system until the same results were achieved while the "body" was active.

Dread had been displeased by the sustained necessity of the initial stabilization phase, but likened it to the resurrection of the Christian deity, Jesus Christ. The physical body of the "son of God" had been struck down and three days later, had been transformed into a being that was no longer ruled by death.

The words he'd said to Wheeler at that time still made her blood run cold.

"_I_ shall be the manifestation of the fictitious Jesus Christ. _I_ shall be the proof that there is a savior for mankind. And _I_ shall lead my people into a new world, where suffering and death shall no longer be a burden," he had said, his remaining eye piercing through her.

She'd said nothing, as she'd learned so many years before. She hadn't flinched when Dread had indicated the transfer would be completed on the day that had long been celebrated as the birth of Jesus.

Her eyes flicked to the body at the far side of the room, connected to the life support machines. Taggart's shell would remain there until all situations had been resolved. She signed off on her assessment of the physical condition of the body before allowing her thoughts to wander.

_Stuart, why haven't you answered? Where is Ari?_

She knew she'd sent the message hastily, but had checked to ensure all safeguards were in place.

An ache now coursed through her with each beat of her heart. One unlike anything she'd felt before; not even when she'd handed over her daughter to be raised in the ranks of the Dread Youth as a sign of her loyalty to the Dread empire.

She'd been able to monitor the little girl during those early years, though it had been surreptitiously. As the girl had grown and risen in the ranks of the Dread Youth, there had been occasional contact through lectures and work assignments. The physical resemblance between mother and daughter was profound, with only hair and eye color differing. She knew Ari recognized her, but there had been no acknowledgement of their relationship.

It was not the will of the machine to allow concern for the welfare of offspring.

When she'd heard of the young woman's desertion during a heated battle with Captain Power's team, Wheeler had been shocked. At the news that her daughter had joined Power's team, the shock had turned to disbelief.

And now, as she stood at her station, a mind-numbing grief was rushing to the surface. _Damn the will of the machine. I'm still human and you're still my daughter. _

_Dammit Ari! Where are you?!_

The doors to the medical unit slid apart nearly silently, shaking her from the forbidden thoughts.

Wheeler felt her face flush slightly at the presence of the male Overunit. His blue eyes locked on hers and his voice was emotionless when he spoke.

"Power's base has been destroyed. Blastarr has been recovered from the wreckage, in pieces too many to count. Regeneration has already begun. Time to completion is unknown. We were unable to find any human remains, but from the blood found at the site of the last known transmission that was intercepted, it is certain that Corporal Chase did not survive. Based on information found at the base, we have reason to believe Power and his team made it there shortly after the explosions began. It is likely they removed the body."

Claire simply stood at attention, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Lord Dread will be informed of the raid outcome as soon as he is cognizant." The overunit's eyes held hers as he backed slowly from the room. She saw a single tear escape down his cheek before the doors closed and blocked him from view.

Had the surveillance monitors not been in place, Wheeler would have crumbled immediately. Instead, she locked down the pain that had been unleashed, desperately trying to push it back into the corners of her mind until the time and place were safe.

----------

47-12 Mark 26; 1917 Hours

The team had been intercepted on their way to the Passages by a distress call from the UTO. Dread's forces had stumbled upon an encampment hidden in a bombed out oil refinery in what had been a Dallas suburb. All forces in the vicinity had been called upon to provide whatever cover fire and evacuation measures they could provide. Hawk had set in the course immediately, and the team had helped obliterate the ground troops while the UTO squadrons laid waste to Dread's air forces. Several UTO fighters had been hit but remained operable, the pilots uninjured. The jumpship, already in poor condition after the attack at the transit gate, had taken a thorough beating from Dread's ground forces, yet somehow managed to remain flight-capable.

Through it all, none of them had said a word about their loss. They'd done their jobs, plowing through their grief to help those that could still be saved. With the wounded numbering in the dozens, the sudden influx of new arrivals at the Passages would have strained their already limited resources. Those survivors with only superficial wounds or the uninjured were taken to settlements in the southern regions where they would start to pick up the pieces of their already broken lives.

When the jumpship had finally limped into the Passages, it had been nearly twenty-four hours after Dread's troops had entered the base. They were exhausted and numb, unsure of what their next step would be, but knowing they had to regroup somewhere. Hawk said little to the night crew in the hangar, explaining only that they needed to make repairs and refuel.

When he'd ducked back inside the ship, Masterson looked at each of them in turn. "We need to lay low for the next few hours. I don't want the residents to panic. If they find out we're here and what went on out there…" he trailed off, his expression grim. "We're going to need some time to pull a few things together. Weapons, rations, clothes. Find a new place to set up as a temporary base until we can locate something more permanent."

He looked toward the front of the ship for only a moment. "I'm going to nose around and see what I can find. Stay here. I don't want to draw any undue attention." And then he left.

Power had been sitting on the stairs leading to the cargo hold and vanished down them seconds after Masterson had gone.

Scout looked at Tank but said nothing. Not five minutes later, as the two were surveying the damage to the navigation system, footsteps sounded behind them. Both looked up at the clatter of metal and plastic, just in time to see Power's gun belt, crysblade and handful of laser stars land on the command chair in the center of the ship and Power head for the door.

Tank quickly placed a hand on Power's shoulder, restraining him just as he reached the hatch.

Power stopped, then turned to look at them. His jaw was set, as if daring them to question him.

But his eyes betrayed him. Instead of the defiance that appeared on his face, his eyes burned with the loss that remained locked inside.

"Captain, don't do this. Just stay here." Baker kept his tone level.

"Give me one good reason why, Sergeant."

Scout pulled out anything that popped into his head. "You're a trusted leader in the resistance. The rest of the groups look to you for guidance and we can't lose that commitment from them. We need your expertise on Taggart himself. You've got knowledge about him that none of us have. You've proven time and again that you can stop him at every turn. Civilians trust you implicitly and explicitly. You've saved so many of them. You're a hero and they all look to you as the one who will bring down Dread."

"I _didn't_ stop him at every turn." Power yanked free of Tank's hold and barreled down the gangway of the jumpship.

Scout leaped from his seat in pursuit, only to be stopped by Ellis.

"Let him go. We'll only create a scene if we try to bring him back. We can home in on his suit, track him."

Scout reluctantly returned to his station and began to work.

Almost an hour later, Hawk returned and quickly searched the interior cabin as well as the hold. He returned and point blank asked, "Where's Jon?"

They explained what transpired after he had left, unprepared for the explosion that followed.

"What the _hell_ did I say? I didn't think I had to give a direct order for you to stay on the damn ship!" The older man slammed his fist against one of the jumpship's interior panels, leaving a small dent in the wake of his anger.

"Hawk, you didn't see him!" Scout protested. "If we hadn't let him go, he'd probably have pulled his blaster and used it on himself right then."

"Why do you think I wanted the three of you to stay here _together_? Hawk started pacing. "I _know_ what he looked like, I _know_ what he's feeling and I _know_ the desires that are going through his mind right now! For God's sake, the man has just lost his reason to _live_ and you two let him wander off on his own to do God knows what!"

Neither Scout nor Tank knew what to say.

"Please tell me you at least tried to track him."

"He's blocking the homing unit on his suit." Scout had tried unsuccessfully for almost the entire hour to remove the jamming signals that Power had somehow initiated.

Hawk swore in disbelief as he smashed his fist against the wall once again. "Oh that's just great! Did you at least think to check him for any hidden weapons before you let him walk out of here?"

"Leave them alone, Matt."

They all turned at the sound of Power's voice. He'd appeared just inside the hatch, his expression blank.

Hawk had started to speak, but stopped and simply stared at Power.

"I'm not going to kill myself. Or anyone else." His voice was filled with sincerity, though his eyes had become vacant. "I take that back. I am going to kill Dread when I get my hands on him."

For nearly a minute, there was silence in the cabin of the ship as Power stared at Masterson.

When Hawk finally spoke, there was an eerie calmness to his voice. "I'm not going to mince words. Anything like this happens again, you're all going to see me get very angry. And I really hate getting angry. Is that understood?"

They all nodded.

As if closing the door on the subject, Hawk quietly handed out their room assignments, in the adjacent housing wing for the pilots and mechanics. With the late hour, they would all be able to slip in without being noticed. To ensure they would sleep, he injected each of them with a sedative before ordering them to their rooms.

When Scout awakened five hours later, he looked across the small room he shared with the captain and found the bunk next to him empty. Power had already risen from the forced rest and disappeared. Shaking his head, Scout yanked on his boots and went back to the hangar, carefully avoiding the stares of anyone he passed. He didn't want to talk about what had taken place. Not yet. Rumors were already circulating within the small group of pilots and mechanics and he knew they would have to face the reality of the situation soon enough.

He holed himself up on the jumpship and began the process of setting up the ship's computer circuitry to interface with Mentor's systems. It was tedious work; they'd previously kept in contact with Mentor through a scrambled frequency between the jumpship and the base. Setting up Mentor's advanced systems on the jumpship's already jury-rigged circuits proved to be a nightmare and he lost himself in the work until one particularly over-used circuit panel blew out completely, sending sparks flying.

Scout sat down in his seat and surveyed the damage, deep in thought and disgusted with himself for not being able to complete what should have been a routine project. "Pilot? Do we have any more of these integrated circuit chips?" he asked absently and waited a moment for her reply, only to realize that he was alone in the ship. And that Jennifer Chase was no longer there to work her magic. He found himself looking at the back of her seat. He then slammed his fist down on the console.

"Dammit Pilot, we were twelve minutes away! You could have waited for us!We could have taken out that damn BioDread, set a detonator with a timer and gotten out as a team!" He was nearly yelling at her vacant chair. "You didn't have to act alone! We're a team," he repeated, anguish filling his voice. "Why couldn't you remember that?" He trailed off, grimly staring at the monitor in front of him. "We still need you." Tears of frustration, anger and sadness sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision.

He was suddenly aware of someone standing near the command chair and turned.

"I heard yelling. Didn't know if there was trouble." Hawk's voice was quiet yet filled with tension. Masterson didn't move from where he leaned against the frame of the chair.

Scout was unable to control his anger any longer. "Hell _yes_ there's trouble! If you haven't _noticed_, we're without a base, we've lost Pilot and the captain might as well be gone too! We have no way to recharge our suits! We can't corroborate _anything_ regarding Cypher's whereabouts! And I can't get this damned ship to cooperate for two _seconds_ in order to get the circuits aligned properly!" He threw the spanner on the floor in utter frustration. "Is that enough or shall I continue?!"

Hawk merely stood there, allowing the younger man to rage. In the five years that he'd known Scout, he'd never seen him react this way, never seen him use anything other than humor to diffuse a situation. "I can see your point pretty clearly, kid."

"Don't call me that!" Scout snapped. "That's what you called _her_."

Matt closed his eyes and rubbed wearily at his face. Scout was right. He _had_ called her 'kid'. The younger man's voice broke into his thoughts, apologetic.

"Hawk, I'm sorry. I just…I'm trying to make sense out of this." Scout's brown eyes were troubled as he stared at the ceiling, hands locked behind his head. "Why didn't she wait for us? Why did Blastarr kill her instead of digitizing her? How did it come to _this_?" He gestured to the disarray of tools and supplies scattered around the interior of the jumpship.

Hawk kneaded the tense muscles in his neck before he spoke. "Jennifer wanted what was best for the team." He silenced the younger man's protests with a shake of his head. "That's why she sent out the suits. That's why she downloaded Mentor and sent him out. The team needs to continue on, because if we don't, Dread is going wipe out everything we've been struggling to protect. We all would have done the same thing. And you know that." Matt continued. "That girl would rather have died than be digitized. She knew the information locked inside her head would destroy the resistance if Dread got his hands on it. She's seen first hand what that monster is capable of doing. She probably deliberately got Blastarr to fire at her to get rid of that possibility."

Hawk stepped over some cables and tools as he made his way to the front of the cabin. He sagged into his seat, staring at the chair beside him. "I've already talked to Tank, and you need to hear this as well. Jon is in no condition to resume command of the team. I can barely get him to acknowledge my presence, and he hasn't said a word to anyone else." Masterson stopped a moment, his eyes still fixed on Pilot's seat. "He's worse now than when he lost his father. And that was bad enough. At least back then we had the base and the war to focus on. Now…" he trailed off.

Scout watched him, knowing that his own tantrum had just added to the burden the older man already carried.

Masterson took a deep breath and continued. "Now we've got to get a plan together, with or without Jon." He saw Scout's startled look. "Rob, this is a war. We can't drop everything and mourn Jennifer. Dread is still out there and we don't know what information he has on us. Rumors are starting to fly around here, so we have to set the record straight to keep panic from setting in. I've asked Jay to get his team together so we can come up with something to get us headed in the right direction."

"Does he know what's going on?" Scout knew that the commanding officer of the pilots at the Passages would have picked up on any small bit of information that was passing through his unit.

Hawk nodded. "I told him as soon as we pulled in this morning and asked him to keep his mouth shut until we had a chance to get some rest." He stopped, looking down at the floor. "When I left this morning, it wasn't just to talk with Jay. It was to find Lark also. I couldn't let her hear it through rumors."

Scout closed his eyes, Sergeant Kiara Rutledge's face flashing into his mind. He knew the young woman's friendship with Pilot had started almost immediately after they'd met nearly three years prior and that they had become almost inseparable during the little time they had on their stops at the Passages. Lark had become the sister Pilot never had. And he had forgotten that someone would need to talk to her, explain what had happened, try to pick up the pieces of yet another loss in her life.

"How is she handling it?"

"Not well." Matt wearily looked at Baker, remembering the way Kiara's fist had inadvertently connected with his jaw in her fit of despair at his news. "But she'll make it. She somehow always manages to pull through shit like this. And she'll probably drag all of us with her, although I'm not sure even _she_ could get through to Jon."

Both were silent for nearly a minute. Matt leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, locking his hands together in front of his mouth. After blowing out a deep breath, he spoke. "So what's the status of the ship?"

Scout looked around, a pained expression crossing his face. "We're stuck here for awhile. Electrical's fried in four locations, stabilizers are out, weapons are off-line. We took a beating in that rescue mission."

"How long before you can get Mentor on-line?"

The younger man shook his head. "I don't have any estimate. With the way the electrical system is right now, I don't want to risk losing him too."

Hawk nodded, then stood. "Keep me updated. Tank's on his way here. Just tell him what needs to be done and he'll take care of it." He headed for the hatch. "We're briefing Jay's team at 2030 hours."

Scout nodded and watched as he left, then turned back to the still charred circuit panel.

----------

47-12 Mark 26; 2030 Hours

Hawk leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as the pilots and mechanics assembled in the briefing room. Some sat, some stood, but they all looked between Masterson and the rest of the Power team, seated off to the side. The room was a relatively large size for the normally cramped quarters of the Passages, but with the addition of the four members of the Power team and the heaviness in the air, the walls seemed to be closing in on them.

Hawk's eyes caught on one of the pilots as he entered. "Fox." He moved forward to intercept the man before he was able to take a seat.

Neil Lockhart stopped near the door, acknowledging Masterson with a nod.

"How's Lark doing?" Matt asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Fox kept his expression passive. "She's stopped throwing things."

Matt closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry Neil. I just couldn't let her hear it through a group meeting like this."

"Don't apologize Hawk. You did the right thing."

Masterson was silent. Lockhart had never been one to talk much and now, his voice was tight yet filled with sincerity. But Hawk saw the pain in the younger man's eyes and knew it wasn't just from the loss of a comrade. Fox would now have to watch the woman he loved struggle to go on after losing one of her dearest friends. It was yet another battle to fight.

Lockhart nodded again, his jaw set as he made his way to an open chair in the corner.

Matt hesitated only a second before returning to the front of the room. If the eyes of the pilots and mechanics hadn't been on him before, they were certainly fixed on him now.

The commander of the team at the Passages, James Heyward Johnson IV, stood beside Masterson, his body accustomed to standing at attention instead of the more relaxed stance of his colleague. Over the years, he'd found that the ragtag group of pilots under his command were better kept under control when he maintained a modicum of decorum. His soldiers knew that he didn't get the name "Jay" for his initials alone. When provoked, his temper could flare as nasty as the long extinct blue jay. The threat of a dressing down by their commanding officer was enough to keep the group in line and Johnson had no desire to change that rumor by a slip in his stance.

James did a quick head count, then nodded to Matt. "They're all yours."

Hawk acknowledged him before drawing in a deep breath. "I'm sure you've all heard the rumors and are starting to put two and two together." He stopped, then pushed forward, wanting to get through this as quickly as possible. "Dread found our base and invaded. Pilot was inside when it happened. She set the autodestruct, but it failed and she…" he trailed off, clenching his jaw. His focus narrowed on a hole in the wall at the back of the room. _Stare at the hole and just get through this, Matt. _ "Jennifer blew the power core herself. The base is gone." _Jennifer is dead. _Though the thought was constantly running through his head, he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"And so is Pilot," someone said softly from the back of the room.

Masterson forced himself to look the man in the eyes, struggling to remember the name of the most recent addition to Jay's team. _Renegade?_ He could only remember the man's call sign.

"Yes." Hawk saw the reactions, heard the swearing.

He sounded weary when he spoke. "She gave it everything she had. That's the way she's been as long as we've known her. Jennifer was one of the best pilots that I've had the pleasure to fly with. She was a friend to damn near everyone in this room. I know a couple of you newbies didn't get a chance to know her, but she was a great kid." He felt tears welling up in his eyes and knew that he would have to stop if he hoped to keep his composure.

"But she did what had to be done." He willed his voice to become strong again. "We'd probably all be dead right now if she hadn't."

"Are you sure she's dead? What if she somehow managed to make it through – "

Hawk cut off the young dark-haired pilot. "We're sure Jessie. She was in the control room."

Jessica Langley's shoulders slumped, understanding the implication of his carefully chosen words. She shook her head slightly as her eyes closed. "Dread's gonna pay for this."

More muttering filtered to the front of the room and this time Hawk didn't stop it.

When the room had quieted again, Masterson spoke clearly, though his words were haunted. "We're in a pretty desperate situation right now. Dread's forces did a number on the jumpship and it's in need of a massive overhaul. We've got only the supplies that are stored on the ship. Our suits are running low on charge. We've got no place to go." He chanced a look at the rest of his team; none of the three would meet his gaze. Power had fixed his stony stare on the wall on the opposite side of the room. "I think it's safe to say we're close to the breaking point."

This time, a tall, slightly balding man in his late forties spoke, his tone quiet but firm. Hawk recognized him as Darryl Watts, overseer of the mechanical crew at the Passages. "Chief" to those assigned duty to him. "You're not giving up this fight. My team will get the jumpship in working order again. We'll need a few days, maybe a week depending on the parts, but it'll be good as new."

Hawk looked at Scout, who nodded gratefully at the mechanic. "I'd appreciate it. Pilot and I have jury-rigged that crate so many times it's almost like Frankenstein. I'm getting through some of the circuitry, but it's slow going without her expertise. It's her ship…she knew it inside and out." The pain and regret were apparent in his voice.

Darryl acknowledged the young man. "We'll do our best with it."

The room grew silent and the tension was almost unbearable.

Matt continued on. "We've heard from a reliable source that Cypher, from Angel City Resistance, has been captured. We've been trying to raise his group on the comm to verify this, but we can't break through to them. Pilot was analyzing a data disk from our source when Blastarr attacked. Once we get Mentor online in the jumpship we might get more information, but that could take some time, given the current electrical situation in the ship. We can't run the risk of frying Mentor."

Jay nodded to Hawk. "We'll get the crew over in communications working on this. If we can't reach them via remote devices, we'll send out a recon team to determine the situation."

Masterson cleared his throat from the sudden lump that had formed. "Then that pretty much covers the basics. I know word will spread through the Passages faster than that influenza outbreak a few months back, but please try to make sure that any information you hear is correct. The situation we have is bad enough. I don't want people to panic because they've heard something that's not true."

When Hawk fell silent, Jay stepped forward. "Dread's troop activities have slowed over the past twelve hours. Aside from that attack on the southern camp, we've picked up nothing else. Either he's gloating over the Power Base or he's planning a major offensive. We need to be ready when he does show up again and we need to make sure that these gentlemen are along for the fight. Dismissed."

The pilots and flight crew slowly left the room, each of them extending their condolences to the men who were now fighting the war on a far more personal level.

Hawk silently watched Jonathan. The younger man barely looked up, merely nodding in the direction of those who attempted to speak to him. When the room had finally emptied, Power left without a sound.

"We're going back to the jumpship," Scout said to Hawk from the seat he'd been in during the briefing. "We can let Chief know what we've already found and what parts we need."

Hawk nodded.

When they'd left, he sat down on the edge of the table and breathed out deeply.

"Do you think the kid is going to make it?" Jay asked warily.

Hawk raised an eyebrow. "Damn good question. I've been asking myself the same thing since we found Jennifer."

"There was something between them." Johnson didn't pose it as a question. "It's one thing to take the death of a comrade hard. He looks like he wants to die himself."

Matt rubbed his neck. "Those two didn't want to admit it to themselves when they had a chance, but Jennifer finally told him how she felt right before the BioDread came in the room." He continued after a pause. "Dammit Jay, we all saw it, but none of us forced them to get it out in the open."

"Feelings have to take a backseat in a war and Power is going to have to realize that. We need your suits too badly to lose him as well as Pilot. No one else can take that suit and use it. It's tuned to Power and he's going to have to get his act together soon." The truth was cold, heartless. But it was the truth nonetheless.

Johnson walked to the door, stopping with a hand on the jamb. "You let me know if you want me to talk to him."

"I will," Hawk replied softy. _Only as a last resort_.

-----------

47-12 Mark 27; 0347 Hours

Jennifer felt consciousness slowly return, her mind hazy. She willed her body to remain still. Random thoughts ran rampant through her mind and she struggled to piece together what had happened.

_Alarms sounding…the base..Cypher taken…get the suits and Mentor out…I love you Jon…Blastarr is inside…Get out NOW…need to set the autodestruct…STAY CLEAR…SHIT – autodestruct failed…seal the blast doors…I need you guys to get here…HELP ME…disk has no information…GO TO HELL…was this a setup…Jon don't let it digitize me…_

_Have I been digitized? Am I inside Overmind?_ The thoughts raged inside even as she became aware of the pain that radiated through her body.

_I can feel pain. Should I feel anything in my body if I've been digitized?_ It was a thought almost filled with wonder and she forced herself to focus on the pain, to assess the physical damage.

Her abdomen ached, as if muscles had been pulled apart and put back together. Her skin itched, from her abdomen to her chest. Her lungs hurt with each breath she took. Her throat was dry and sore and she found herself longing for some cool water.

She remembered being in a battle; she'd always been sore after being shot. The power suit prevented her skin from being damaged by the blasts, but the armor could only protect so much from blunt force trauma. But this was more than just the trauma induced by blasts from a BioMech or even a BioDread.

Her mind began to clear slightly. She'd been at the base. Blastarr had found a way inside and she was facing the beast alone. She'd been in the power core room. Jon's voice…it had been so comforting just to hear him speak. He'd said they were on their way, but he'd sounded so afraid. He knew she'd taken a beating and he knew what she was about to do. She'd pressed the final button to detonate the charges just as the whining began. She remembered the beam surrounding her and seeing someone's face – Jon? – an instant before the intense pain overwhelmed her senses._ Am I still inside Blastarr?_

A dull hum found its way to her brain and she turned her attention to her surroundings, though her eyes were still closed. The hum was the only sound in the room. She recognized the sound - it was an air purifier, meant to remove particulates to keep the machines clean and in proper working order. She'd spent a day, early in her training in the Dread Youth, learning the rather simplistic design of the large units, knowing that without them, the viability of some of the most sensitive pieces of equipment at Volcania would be in danger.

She lay silently, trying to keep the panic from breaking free. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. The pain she felt in her abdomen was from injuries sustained in her fight against Blastarr. She remembered hurting deep within her gut even before she'd had the final confrontation with the BioDread. The itching was likely from incisions that were healing. Incisions that had been made to repair the internal damage she'd sustained in that last battle.

She had been retrieved from within Blastarr's digitizer. She was in Volcania.

She'd heard rumors of rebels who had been digitized while injured, then brought to outposts where they were healed, only to find themselves mentally and physically tortured in an attempt to extract any relevant information about the Resistance. Even if the person held nothing of use, he or she was tortured simply for being one who was against the machine.

She knew they wouldn't waste their time sending her to an outpost. Dread would want the pleasure of inflicting pain himself. For her desertion from his ranks. For joining not only the resistance, but Jonathan Power's team. For defying the will of the machine and fighting for humanity.

Her gut began to roil as another realization fully hit her. _I saw someone right before I was digitized. I wasn't alone in the base with Blastarr when it blew! no no no no NO! I told all of you to stay clear!_

What little hope remaining within Jennifer Chase vanished as doors slid apart. Pulling all the training she'd learned from her experience in the Dread Youth, she locked down the horrific thought and focused on the more immediate threat.

Her finely tuned sense of hearing picked up two sets of human feet and two nonhuman sets – likely BioMechs. One human advanced and Jennifer remained still, though instinct screamed at her to run.

A pair of fingers pressed at the carotid artery on the right side of her throat, searching for a pulse. Fifteen seconds later, Jennifer felt something cold press against the same artery, followed by a pinch and a hiss. She flinched involuntarily at the unexpected pain and felt warmth spread down her neck and into her chest. Within a minute, the pain in her body began to recede. The person at her side checked her pulse again, then took several steps backward.

The mech feet advanced and Jennifer felt their hands under her arms, forcing her to stand upright. She didn't resist them, yet didn't cooperate either. Dizziness and nausea from the sudden change in position were her more immediate concerns and she breathed slowly to combat the symptoms._ In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow down. In, out. In, out._

"Youth Leader Chase."

The voice caught her off guard and her eyes snapped open. Panic accompanied the dizziness and nausea. Had the Mechs not been holding her, she doubted she'd have stayed on her feet.

A man and woman stood before her. Jennifer had always assumed if she ever unwillingly returned to Volcania, she would be brought before them. That knowledge didn't change the surprise she felt at their presence.

Dread's chief technology advisor was nearly a legend among not only the Dread Youth, but among those who had reached the highest rank of overunit as well. He had been under the guidance of Lyman Taggart himself and had been instrumental in establishing the pathways that enabled a human mind to link with a computer, resulting in the Overmind.

"It's good to see you've not forgotten your name." His blue eyes were hard and the fine lines around them made him appear that much more intense. "Welcome home, Arianna."

Jennifer met the man's greeting with an icy stare.

"Is that any way to greet your father? Without so much as a 'hello'?" Overunit Kendall Chase smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were unreadable, as they'd been throughout the handful of times she'd met him. "At least say hello to your mother." He gestured to the woman beside himself.

Jennifer's eyes never left his face. "I may be the product of your sperm and egg, but that doesn't make you my father and mother." A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth to match his. "You gave up any right as my parents when you handed me over to be raised by machines. So with all due respect, Overunits Chase and Wheeler, you can drop the appeal to my more sensitive side. It doesn't suit you at all."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Arianna, you were the result of an act of love between your mother and I –"

Jennifer cut him off. "There's no such thing as love here in _this_ world. You of all people should know that, _Overunit _Chase. Emotions are the enemy of the machine. Or did you forget that?"

"You would be well advised to hold your tongue. Lord Dread has allowed us to speak with you – to give you the opportunity to reform your ways and return to the path that will lead you to the only true freedom that exists." Chase spoke firmly, his voice edged with anger.

"You can't possibly expect me to believe that load of bullshit anymore." Jennifer didn't know if it was the medication she'd been given, the futility of the situation, or the desire to lash out at the two people who had given her away to an emotionless life, but the words tumbled out before she could stop herself.

Wheeler spoke for the first time. "Youth Leader Chase, you should be dead right now. The injuries you sustained in the attack on the Power Base were lethal, yet Lord Dread saw fit to have you resuscitated when your body failed."

"Gee, thanks," Pilot sarcastically said.

"_Silence!_" Kendall took a step forward, his hands fisted at his sides.

Jennifer once again felt her stomach crawl up into her throat at the sudden outburst, yet she merely stared at him. _If silence is what you want, silence is what you'll get._

"Lord Dread is giving you a choice. You may return to your unit in the Youth Corps or you may continue to ally yourself with the Organics. I suggest you give careful consideration to this decision." Chase crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at her.

Several minutes passed, the hum of the air purifier the only sound in the room.

"What have you decided?" Chase finally asked. When she didn't respond, his eyes narrowed on her. "You would choose those worthless _vermin_ over the opportunity for eternal life?"

A sharp smack to the side of her head made lights streak across her vision, yet Jennifer said nothing. In spite of the pain reliever that had been administered, her head began to throb.

Wheeler's voice was firm, unforgiving. "You have been given a small dose of a powerful prostaglandin inhibitor to alleviate your pain. Realize that it can be taken away with your refusal to cooperate." She stopped to allow the younger woman time to absorb her words. "The pain you were in moments ago will seem like nothing in comparison to what you will endure if you do not renounce your alliance with the resistance."

Jennifer knew truer words had never been spoken.

Chase abruptly turned, preceding the BioMechs from the room.

"You have made a very poor choice, Arianna." Wheeler reached out a hand to touch Jennifer's hair, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "Such a waste. You held such promise as a Youth Leader. And now look at you. You've become a disgrace to the Dread Empire."

The doors slid shut seconds after Wheeler exited the room.

Jennifer sank onto the mattress in an attempt to conserve every last ounce of energy._ Please get me out of here Jon. Please…_


	5. Chapter 5

47-12 Mark 27; 0547 Hours

Jennifer stared at the wall of the holding cell. The room was dimly lit, like much of the rest of Volcania. Only a small percentage of the population working within the confines of the structure required light by which to see; Dread ordered the minimum amount of energy flowing to such unnecessary items.

She'd always considered it a nuisance that the lights were kept low. Now, she was grateful for the darkness. The exhaustion from the surgery she'd endured was nearly overwhelming. She knew her wounds would take time to heal – time she didn't have. Though she'd been given the pain reliever when she'd first awakened, it was unlikely to last much longer. She was already feeling the ache within her abdomen and knew that the fresh wounds would soon add to her discomfort.

Jennifer closed her eyes and willed her body to relax.

The first interrogation session had swiftly followed the departure of Wheeler and Chase. It had been mercifully short, yet the severity of the pain had been substantial.

The overunits, whom she had not recognized, had been silent during the entire session. She knew their orders had been to inflict physical damage and they had carried out those orders to the letter.

Dread liked to break down the body before breaking the mental barriers. When the physical form hurt, the mind would soon give in to avoid the affliction of more pain. And it solidified his belief that the body was weak and must be replaced by a form that was resistant to pain and illness.

In her early years in the Dread Youth, Jennifer had learned to turn her thoughts inward when the physical and mental demands became too strong. She'd been able to collect herself, refocus on the importance of her work.

Those lessons resurfaced and she found herself strangely comforted by them. She'd been able to use Dread's techniques against him and had pulled herself through the first round. Though she'd been in agony initially, she'd been able to lock away the physical pain.

She'd held the control even as the wounds on her back were treated a short time after they'd been inflicted.

_Wouldn't want me to get a systemic infection and die before you get the information you want_, she thought grimly as she faded into a restless sleep.

She had heard the phrase "paybacks are hell" and now knew what it meant. And she knew that her payback was only beginning.

-----------

47-12 Mark 27; 1541 Hours

Matt Masterson had never felt so full of rage, desperation and sadness at the same time. Even the grief he'd felt when he'd lost his family was being overwhelmed by the deep emotions that swept over him as he paced the small room off the hangar.

Jonathan Power stood ten feet away, on the opposite side of the table at the front of the room. The stubble on his face had been growing for nearly two days and was almost a full beard. Though he'd showered, he still carried the rumpled look of someone who hadn't slept in days.

Matt had seen him in the conference room and jokingly urged him to shave before he became unrecognizable.

Power had immediately lashed out at him verbally, catching him off guard. Masterson had stepped inside the room before he blew up, resisting the urge to slam the door in the wake of his fury.

"And just what would Jennifer say if she saw you right now?" Hawk knew he was dealing a low blow to Power, but he'd seen enough of the younger man's misery.

"If Jennifer was here right now I wouldn't be like this!" Power snapped. "And if I hadn't sent her back alone, she _would_ still be here with us!"

"You don't know that!" Hawk slammed his hands down on the table. "You have no idea how things would have ended if one of us had gone with her! We could be down two teammates instead of one. Even if we'd _all_ gone back together, the base could have still gone down with all of us inside. And then what would happen to the resistance? We're the only ones with the weapons that can take out Dread and finish this war!"

Jon stared at him incredulously, shaking his head. "You actually think we're going to _finish_ this war?! Wake up Matt! It's been fifteen _years_!"

"And if it takes another fifteen years, we're going to get the job done! I made a promise to Jennifer and I do not intend to break it."

Power's voice was barely above a whisper, his glare icy. "Then you better stop making promises that you can't keep."

Matt straightened, squaring his shoulders. "And _you_ better stop beating yourself up for things you have no control over." He saw Power flinch slightly. "For the last fifteen years, I've watched you blame yourself for your father's death. And you're doing it now with Jennifer. This is a war, Jon. And the harsh reality is that people die in a war."

"They died because of _my_ actions! Dad died trying to rescue me because I let myself be captured. Jennifer died because I sent her back to the base by herself."

Hawk pounded his fists in frustration. "Jonathan, _for the last time_, you _didn't_ do this to them! They made up their own minds! How can I get it through that thick skull of yours?

Power actually looked insulted. "I don't have a thick skull."

"Yes you do. Just like your father. And just like Pilot." Hawk shook his head as Power glared at him. "Don't you give me that look. I think I know you a little better than the rest of the folks around here." He stopped again for a moment. "I know you well enough that I should have forced you to talk to her weeks ago."

Hawk saw the anger fading from Power's eyes. Matt's voice quieted. "I heard what happened on the jumpship before we made that run against Icarus control."

The younger man closed his eyes.

"You said that kiss was for luck." Masterson hesitated. "But it wasn't. And you knew it at that time."

Power opened his eyes to stare at him, suddenly looking as weary as Matt felt. "We were supposed to talk when we returned to the base after our meeting with Locke." He hesitated. "I already knew what I was going to say to her, Matt."

"That you loved her," the older man said softly.

Power looked down at the floor, intently studying his boot. His voice was emotionless when he spoke. "I was going to tell her that I cared about her more than anyone I'd ever known. And maybe if we'd met under different circumstances, there might be a chance. But my focus had to be on taking out Dread and restoring some kind of normalcy to the people left on this planet."

Hawk was silent, unsure of how much more he would be able to push Jonathan before he finally broke him. "She would have seen right through that load of BS, just like I am right now."

Power exploded. "Matt, what the hell was I supposed to do? Tell her the _truth_? That I loved her but I was too afraid to get close? That I didn't want to risk being hurt if something happened to her?"

"It would have been a good start." He nodded, struggling to remain calm. "And she would have understood it."

"I was her commanding officer, Matt!"

"And what difference would that have made?" Hawk's expression softened as he looked at Jon. "Do you honestly think any of us would have objected? Do you think we couldn't have dealt with seeing the two of you together? That we didn't see right through the fronts the two of you put up for us? This group is run loose enough that rank doesn't mean a whole lot." Matt leaned against the wall, exhausted by the turmoil.

"It obviously does if you were able to take command of the team," Power said softly.

Hawk rubbed his eyes. His head was hurting. He was tired - tired of the conversation, tired of fighting, tired of being on an emotional roller coaster, tired of losing people he loved. "I did it because I couldn't let you get yourself injured...or worse."

"It was too late for that."

Matt met Jon's stare and held it. He didn't know what else to say that hadn't already been said.

"What am I supposed to do, Matt?" Power asked, nearly pleading. "How do I get past this when I have to concentrate just to put one foot in front of the other when I walk?"

"Sometimes just putting one foot in front of the other is all you _can_ do for awhile." Hawk sat down on the chair across from Power. "It's going to hurt like hell for a long time, but you've got to let go of this guilt that you're carrying. Neither your dad nor Jennifer would want to see you this way."

Power didn't look convinced.

"Son, we need you back in this fight. And we need it soon. The resistance can only do so much without us and those suits. And you know it." He sat quietly for a moment, before standing. "Think about what I've said. The team is still yours, Jon, just like it's always been. I'm just keeping your seat warm until you're ready to believe in yourself again." He left the room and didn't look back.

-----------

47-12 Mark 27; 2147 Hours

Jennifer walked silently between the two BioMechs as they wove through the corridors of the detention unit. An overunit was in front of her and one behind; all four were armed with blasters and they'd passed at least a dozen Mechs standing guard along the route from her detention cell. She had decided that if the opportunity arose, she would take the chance to escape, whether her body had the strength to make it through or not. Thus far, there had been no options, as she'd expected.

Acid rose in her throat when they reached their destination.

The doors to the interrogation room were open. A simple yet sturdy wooden chair was against the wall at the far end, a fully illuminated console beside it.

At the sound of the footsteps, Overunit Wheeler turned away from the console. She signaled to the Youth guards standing near the door, who moved forward and quickly forced Jennifer into the chair, strapping her in with leather restraints across her chest, wrist and ankles.

Pain tore through the still healing wounds on her back as she struggled weakly to free herself.

"It is pointless to resist. We will get the information we desire, with or without your cooperation." Overunit Wheeler's expression was smug. She pulled several small pads from the console and advanced to Jennifer's side.

Looking down at the younger woman, Wheeler unbuttoned Jennifer's shirt halfway, applying two of the pads to her chest and one to the side of her neck. Wires quickly followed, completing the connection between the console and the pads that had just been placed.

"I'm sure you know what this is." Wheeler's eyes flicked to the console, then back to her captive. "It is just a precautionary measure, of course."

Her eyes locked on Jennifer's. "You have my word that you shall not be harmed, provided you answer my questions."

Pilot saw the woman's hand move an instant before the jolt slammed through her body. Just as quickly, it was gone. She sat, panting, her limbs twitching involuntarily.

"Should you choose to cooperate, I shall stand by my word. If you decide otherwise, it will be…unpleasant."

Wheeler allowed the last word to hang in the air for several seconds before she spoke again. "Where are the Passages located?"

Jennifer focused on the medallion hanging around the woman's neck. She had spent nearly a decade and a half learning how to become the person standing before her. She had once longed to wear the medallion as a sign of her loyalty to Lord Dread. To the machine.

Now, she saw it in a different light. The medallion's stone was blood red. _Blood_. The life giving liquid that flowed through her veins and arteries and kept her alive. _Alive._ To be human was to be alive. To be in a machine, to be controlled by some entity, that was merely an existence, if even that.

_This _was what she wanted. Pain or not, _this _was how it would be. And she would do whatever was needed to protect what remained of humanity.

"Oh come now. This is a simple question with a simple answer. The coordinates are all we desire." Annoyance was seeping into Wheeler's voice and she crossed her arms over her chest.

Jennifer defiantly stared at her, saying nothing.

A long minute passed.

"It would seem you've not listened carefully to my words." Wheeler slowly turned back to the console. "Maybe you need a bit of a reminder of the capabilities we have."

Though she knew it was going to happen, Jennifer was unable to prepare herself for the charge that raced through her body. The pain was intense and she lost her focus on the medallion as her vision blanked.

"Will you cooperate with me now?"

Five seconds later, another shot of energy streaked through her, catching her off guard. The duration was longer by a mere second, but the rapid succession with the previous one made her see stars. Her head slumped forward as the tension within her body released and Jennifer fought to regain control.

"What is your decision, Youth Leader Chase?"

As soon as she could hold her head steady, Pilot met the icy stare of Overunit Wheeler and said nothing.

"Maybe you shall change your mind with a little persuasion."

Jennifer felt sweat roll down the sides of her face and was preparing herself for the next wave when Overunit Chase entered the room. A half dozen BioMechs closely followed him, a human in their midst.

Chase's eyes locked onto the young woman's as he stepped to the side.

Jennifer swore her heart stopped beating for several seconds. _Locke was right. Cypher's been captured._

Colonel Six, leader of Angel City resistance, stood ten feet from her. He'd been beaten, far more severely than she had, and looked exhausted. Though his eyes registered recognition, he showed no emotion.

A jolt of energy left Jennifer gasping for air as her muscles tightened in another round of spasms.

"Colonel, you've just seen a brief example of what Youth Leader Chase will feel if you fail to answer our questions." The elder Chase's voice was cold.

Jennifer struggled to pull herself upright in the chair from where she'd slumped after the last charge. Her eyes locked on Cypher's. "Corporal Chase reporting, Sir." A weak grin turned up the corners of her mouth.

He nodded at her.

Something in his eyes had changed. She suddenly saw fear. It was fleeting, masked quickly by his years on the front lines, but it was there. He knew who she was, knew her role in the resistance. He knew what they stood to lose if either of them faltered.

Jennifer knew she would pay, but needed Cypher to hear her words. "These are Overunits Wheeler and Chase. They're a bit annoyed with me because I won't talk to them. I can see they're unhappy with you also. That's good to know."

She saw the shock on his face at the mention of the name 'Chase'. "Yes, technically speaking, I'm their offspring. But offspring have no place here in the Dread empire."

"_Silence!_" Chase snapped.

Pilot smirked. "See? They want me to talk, then they tell me to shut up. Can't win."

"And you will _never_ win." Wheeler hissed before her fingers tightened on the knob.

Jennifer groaned several seconds later as she tried to recover from the latest shock. The look of fear on Cypher's face said it all.

"Colonel, where are the Passages?" Chase stared at the older man.

Cypher stood motionless, his eyes glued to the wall just above Pilot's head.

_Don't say anything Cypher. Just don't say anything._ Jennifer willed him to stand strong.

"Where are the Passages, Colonel?" Overunit Chase calmly repeated.

Silence.

Pain tore through her body again and Jennifer couldn't contain the sob. Tears began to mix with sweat on her cheeks. But she didn't care what happened to her, as long as Cypher revealed no information.

Breathing hard, she looked up at him.

His eyes locked on her.

Jennifer shook her head. "No, Colonel. Doesn't matter what they do to me."

She was hit once again and stayed upright only because of the restraints. Each jolt caused her to lose sight for several moments. Her head was pounding, her ears ringing. It was becoming difficult to pull her head back up after the shock wore off.

Six was visibly shaken. "The Captain – "

"Knows I took an oath to protect what is left of mankind!" Pilot cut him off. "He _knows_ I will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of those who have entrusted us with their lives!" Jennifer stared at him. "_Whatever_ it takes."

Wheeler and Chase watched the exchange. Wheeler's hand tightened on the dial again. They watched the young woman's body stiffen again, then fall limp in the chair.

"Where are the Passages, Colonel?" Chase asked again, still patiently awaiting his answer.

Jennifer shook her head emphatically, though her body protested the movement. Strands of hair were clinging to the sweat on her face. "Don't do it Cypher! I am expendable!"

The older man turned desperate eyes on her.

She knew he was breaking.

"Colonel, I'd advise you to decide quickly. Youth Leader Chase will not be able to withstand more than two shocks. Perhaps three. Would you care to find out?"

Another jolt ripped through Jennifer's body and she slumped forward when it ended. A moan escaped her lips and she struggled to regain control of her extremities.

"That is one, Colonel. Will she be able to take one or two more shocks?"

"Cypher..." Jennifer barely managed a whisper.

A Youth leader grabbed her hair from behind and viciously yanked her upright in the chair before letting go. Jennifer allowed her head to rest against the back of the chair and her eyes met Cypher's once again. Through her tears, she saw the sorrow on his face.

"Sector - "

"NO!" Jennifer screamed, mustering what remaining strength she had to drown out his voice.

The shock hit her immediately, momentarily cutting off her awareness of the scene in front of her.

Tears blurred her vision when she regained control. Cypher's body lay crumpled on the floor, a pool of red growing beneath him.

Jennifer simply closed her eyes and prayed he revealed nothing before he went to his death.

-----------------

47-12 Mark 28; 0331 Hours

Stuart Power restlessly shifted on the bunk in his quarters, his eyes catching the clock on the wall. The smallest hand slowly ticked each second as it passed and he watched it for several minutes.

_Jon, they said they were debriefing her, but I can't find her anywhere. I don't know where she is. They wouldn't let her just leave, that's not how they operate. She has to be here._

_I'm afraid for her, Jon. They want information and they will do almost anything to get it._

He closed his eyes, remembering the way she had looked the last time he'd seen her in the recovery area. So small, so thin, so injured. How would she survive if they decided to use any of their more aggressive tactics on her?_ Would_ she survive?

_Yes, she will survive. They don't have a choice. They said they would keep all of you alive in exchange for my continued cooperation. And if they expect anything from me, they will have to keep their end of the bargain._

Stuart sat up on the bed, shifting his attention to the picture on the desk. Jon was so young, only fourteen. Hardly more than a child, yet forced to mature quickly because of the war.

Morgana's arm was wrapped around their son and there was a smile on her face. She had nearly always worn a smile. Not the kind that was forced, but a genuine one that made a person feel welcome.

It was one of the many reasons Stuart had fallen for her.

The picture was of the three of them. Stuart studied it, saw for the millionth time the similarities between Jon and Morgana. They had the same eyes, same hair color. But he also saw the nonphysical traits – her patience, her wry sense of humor, her unshakeable love and devotion. Jon had slipped most of those characteristics behind a somber mask when his mother had disappeared, instead displaying a stubborn desire to make sure no one else went through what he had.

This picture was the only one Stuart had grabbed from their home before he'd abandoned it. The photograph and clock were all he had left of his former life.

Stuart rested his forehead in his hands, his mind replaying the final exchange between Jennifer and Jon. The mask had been in place for so long that his son couldn't even acknowledge his true feelings for her. He'd heard the anguish, the sheer desperation, in Jon's voice as he'd ordered her to leave the base. It was the only way he could tell her how he felt.

_I love you, Stuart Power._ Those had been Morgana's last words to him. He didn't want Jon to suffer the same fate from the woman he loved.

_You will hear Jennifer tell you those words again, Jon. And you will tell her how much you love her too. Even if I have to drag them out of you myself._

-----------

41-12 Mark 29; 0517 Hours

Jennifer sat silently on the floor of the detention room, her eyes focused on the wall at the far end.

She had been left alone. The only means of escape was the door through which she'd entered and she knew it was guarded by the overunits and mechs who had brought her. Even if she managed to get out of the room, she'd never make it farther than the end of the hall. Yet another opportunity she could do nothing with.

There was nothing in the room to indicate what would happen next. It was simply an empty detention cell.

She had no idea how long she'd been within the confines of the room, let alone Volcania itself.

What she did know was that her body was losing the battle. She was hurting more profoundly than she'd perceived possible. Though the surgical wounds were beginning to heal, her abdominal muscles were weak and it was difficult to move, much less walk. The electric shocks had done more damage by causing her muscles to constantly contract. Her body needed rest, but the guards had seen to it that she'd done very little sleeping.

They were barely providing enough food to stay alive. It hardly mattered, since her desire to eat was nonexistent. Twice, they'd hooked her to a machine and intravenously given her an infusion of nutrients.

She knew it wasn't out of the goodness of their hearts. It was merely to keep her alive long enough to extract the information they wanted.

She also knew they were toying with her, as a cat would play with a mouse. She was as trapped as the rodent and it was only a matter of time before the feline pounced for the kill.

The doors to the cell slid open.

_Here's the kill now._

She watched as Dread entered, followed by Blastarr and Soaron. Tears welled in her eyes and her stomach churned, yet she maintained her position on the floor. From this vantage point, all three seemed so much larger than she'd remembered them being. In battles, she'd rarely been this close to any one of them. Now, they loomed within ten feet of her.

She wanted to close her eyes, pretend it was a dream. But it wasn't a dream.

Dread turned to her slowly, his mechanical eye piercing deep into her. "Welcome, Youth Leader Chase. We have much to discuss." A cold, evil smile crossed his face.

"Blastarr. Digitize her."

The six hundred pound mechanical beast raised its arm and readied its digitizer. "Yes, my lord."

The beam surrounded Jennifer before she could make a sound.

--------------

47-12 Mark 29; 0828 Hours

Claire Wheeler stood at her station, aware of the activity of the other overunits and underunits in the room. Each had his or her own tasks, but the goal was the same: the awakening of their leader, Lord Dread.

The cryoprotectant used during the transfer had been slowly warmed during the stabilization period. Brain scans taken during the time showed no evidence of tissue damage from ice crystal formation and neurological activity had increased with the temperature of the cryoprotectant. Once the brain had reached optimal temperature and activity levels had stabilized, the maintenance solution had been infused, replacing the preservative with a bath of nutrients and oxygen vital for the brain's continued survival.

The pump used for the circulation and replenishment of the solution had functioned without error from the moment it was engaged.

And now, the time for the initial stabilization phase of the cerebral transfer had passed. Though none of them had been willing to admit it, they'd all felt apprehension as the countdown finished.

Wheeler watched as Overunit Riemann connected the final circuits that would activate not only a fully mechanized version of Lord Dread, but would return the computer, Overmind, to its functional state.

When he had awaked after the explosion at Volcania, he had been aware of his breathing. There had been a steady rhythm that had been almost soothing and he had concentrated on it while he'd gathered his thoughts. He'd felt pain, where the mechanical implants met his human flesh. There had been nausea, dizziness, fever.

Now, there was no sound of breath being drawn in or exhaled. There was no rise and fall of his chest. No pain or ill feelings.

There was only a sudden awareness of the room he was in. A flat surface appeared and he rapidly processed the image as the ceiling. He saw minute details of the ceiling with a simple change in thought.

"Lord Dread."

He recognized the voice that spoke his name. The voice that answered was still his own, from lips that moved with ease. "I am here, Overmind."

He lifted himself from the table and looked at the organics before him. It was the same group he had faced just prior to the cryopreservation sequence. They now stood at attention, emotionless.

"Readings indicate full integration of cerebral tissue with synthetic circuit network. We are ready to begin the assessment of your new abilities." The voice echoed through the room.

"Yes, Overmind. Yes. And soon, Power will be crushed, with the rest of the foolish organics who resist the will of the machine." Dread allowed himself to be led from the room by two overunits.

------------

47-12 Mark 29; 1006 Hours

Jennifer remained on the floor of the detention cell, where she'd been left when the digitization had ceased. She had no idea how many times it had happened; she'd lost track after a dozen. Each time, Dread had demanded the location of resistance groups, leaders, the pathway to Eden Two. The location of the Passages had ceased to be an issue.

She didn't dare dwell on the possibility that Cypher had divulged that information.

Dread had become infuriated with her, issuing the digitization order as soon as she'd been reanimated. Again and again it happened. Still, she said nothing. He'd finally left, no closer to his answers than when he'd entered.

She wanted to cry now, but it would take effort to do that. Each breath she took was more painful than the previous and sobbing would make it that much worse.

It would also give away her mental state. She was sure they knew she was ready to break, but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of showing it.

She finally gave in to the blackness that had played at the edges of her vision for so long. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep, not caring if this was a sleep from which she would never awaken.

-------------

47-12 Mark 31; 1331 hours

The first time Jennifer awoke, she'd found herself on the bunk in her original cell, unable to move. She'd thought they'd restrained her, but it was simply that her muscles were too weak to respond to her brain's demands.

She'd fallen asleep again, but was awakened by needles being shoved into both her arms. The intravenous fluids were being forced into her system again and she didn't have the energy to fight them. She was shivering and wanted nothing more than to die. A fever raged within her body and she knew her organ systems would be shutting down soon. Sleep had quickly followed the infusion; she was almost certain they had given her a sedative.

When she awoke, she'd felt almost human again. Pain still pulsed through her body, but the fever had subsided and she could move her limbs. Her brain ached and she found it hard to focus on any one moment.

She heard the doors slide open and a desperate urge to curl into a ball, pretend this wasn't happening again, ran through her. She forced herself to remain on her side, facing the wall. Footsteps drew closer and she knew there were two of them. They were human this time. Human or machine, the hands would still be rough as they forced her up for the next round of torture. She willed her heart to slow, willed her breathing to stay even, to avoid any indication that she was breaking down.

She felt the hand on her arm even as her name was spoken. _No. It can't be you. You couldn't have made it out of the base alive. Not after the explosion_. _This is another of Dread's games. _

Yet she hesitated. _Blastarr somehow made it out. Maybe Jon had also. _

Her shoulder was gently shaken. "Come on, Jennifer. Wake up."

She opened her eyes and turned her head. He was there, crouched down beside her, the armor of his suit encasing his body. His helmet was on the floor next to him, his brown eyes intent on hers. "Jon?!" His name came out as half a question, half a gasp of relief. Before he could respond, she hurled herself into his arms, burying her face into the unprotected skin of his throat.

He shushed her, holding her in his arms for only a few seconds. "We have to get out of here."

Her heart pounding so loudly she swore they could hear it, she struggled with the decision. _This can't be real. You can't be here. But you are. How? I thought you were in the base when it exploded._

"Jennifer please." His voice was low and his hands cradled her cheeks, forcing her eyes to meet his. "You're not alone anymore."

A sob escaped her lips. He'd told her she wasn't alone just before her mission into MedLab One.

"Can you walk?" Power's eyes intently searched her face.

She nodded, unable to keep several tears from streaking down her cheeks. "They injected me with something…I don't know what. I'm in a lot of pain and my brain is foggy, but I can move as quickly as you need me to if it means getting out of here."

He smiled softly. "Then let's back to the jumpship." His fingertips brushed the tears away as his lips pressed lightly against hers, just for a moment.

He'd sealed her decision with a kiss.

She followed him to the door Scout guarded.

Baker reached out a hand and squeezed hers, a wordless message of encouragement passing between them. He then reached into his pack and pulled out a blaster. "We're going to need all the help we can get. It's not going to be pretty getting through the hangar."

"Let's hope I don't shoot anyone's toes off," Pilot muttered, staring at the weapon that had once felt so familiar in her hand. Now, it was as if she was watching the scene unfold from a far off distance.

Power nodded to Jennifer. "Stay as close to me as you can. We found your suit, but we don't know how badly it's been damaged and we've got no way to recharge it at the moment."

Pilot turned her attention back to him. _It sounds like you. It's a plan you would come up with when there was nothing else that could be done._

Her hand closed on his and she followed him out the door. Adrenaline pumped through her veins with her blood and she had to force her hand to remain steady as she held tightly to the blaster.

With Power in front of her and Scout behind, she raced through the darkened corridors with them. Power's unerring sense of direction led them quickly to a ventilation shaft. As Pilot descended the ladder, she could hear the sounds of a battle already underway.

"Sounds like the cavalry needs a bit of help," Scout said from above.

Pilot felt a pang of fear deep in her stomach.

Power's hand was on her back, easing her into position beside him at the entrance to the hangar. "I'm going out first and will cover you. Stay behind me and keep moving with me. The jumpship is on the opposite end of the hangar and it's going to take everything we've got to make it."

Pilot nodded. "Understood."

Power kissed her forehead, then turned to look at Scout. "You ready, Sergeant?"

"Let's recycle some tin cans." Scout gave a sloppy salute with his familiar grin.

Jennifer watched Power kick out the grate and launch himself through the opening. He crouched down, shielding her entrance into the hangar. She kept herself between him and the wall, moving quickly to keep up with his pace. She hoped Scout had made it out.

The roar in the hangar was almost deafening as laser fire slammed into walls, storage units, BioMechs and Power Suits. Afterimages of the lasers crisscrossed the air and the smell of burning metal and shorting circuits filled the room. Acrid smoke billowed as flames erupted in the storage units that had been hit.

Pilot saw the jumpship, heavily guarded by BioMechs and Overunits. Even if they could make it across the hangar to reach the ship, they would never be able to gain access to it. She instinctively ducked behind Power as a bolt of energy glanced off his shoulder, sending sparks flying in all directions. Another struck him directly in his chest and he grunted, yet continued his assault on the troopers, steadily moving along the wall as Pilot kept pace. Her peripheral vision caught movement and she swung her blaster in its direction, neatly taking out a trooper before it could take aim at them.

She quickly located the members of the team; they were scattered, but slowly converging on the jumpship. A computerized voice was barely audible over the din, announcing that Power's suit was down to twenty percent. Pilot swallowed hard. She dared a look at Tank, who was the farthest from the ship, picking off whole groups of BioMechs with his grenade launcher. A shot from an overunit caught him full in the chest and she watched in horror as his suit failed. He had nowhere to turn for cover and went down under a barrage of concentrated laser fire. Instinct told her to run to him but she knew it was too late. He was unmoving and they were still firing at him.

Power moved in closer to the wall, providing even more cover for her as they continued. The attack became more focused as the troopers realized the suits were being drained. They targeted Hawk, blasting him relentlessly. Power took advantage of their lack of attention toward him and hurried Jennifer forward, lobbing a therm grenade directly into a group of mechs and destroying them. It did little to divert the attention of the rest of the group as Hawk's armor disappeared. He was dead before he hit the floor, a blast connecting with the side of his unprotected head.

Pilot's eyes had been burning from the smoke, but now they began to sting with tears. Her teammates...her friends...her _family_ members were dying to gain her freedom. _It's not supposed to end this way!_ her mind screamed at her.

The next thirty seconds passed in slow motion. The troopers and overunits fired equally at Power and Scout, depleting both their suits. Before complete system failure took effect, Power turned and wrapped his arms around her, shielding her with his own body. She felt the armor disappear and found her face buried in his chest, her fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt as his heart thumped wildly against her cheek. Her head collided with the wall as the first blast struck Power, the force slamming him forward. He held her fiercely, making no sound even as the shots continued to strike him. His body suddenly grew heavy against hers and she felt his heart slow dramatically. His knees buckled, yet his grip on her didn't decrease. Her head smashed against the floor as his body landed on top of her. Pain tore through her chest as ribs cracked upon impact, then through her arm, legs and side as blasts collided with her now exposed body. She tried to scream, tried to move beneath him, but her injuries and the weight of his body were too much. Her lungs began to burn as she fought to breathe, her face still pressed into his chest.

As the darkness swallowed her, she stopped struggling and one thought filled her mind before her consciousness faded. _Please let me die with all of you._ Then she knew nothing.

"Cease fire!" A voice shouted through the crackling of fires and blaster shots. "Medics move in! Containment teams secure the hangar!"

The hangar doors opened and dozens of people rushed to their duties. Sergeant Lucas Sheppard watched them, his expression devoid of emotion. He walked slowly in the direction of the teams working on Power and Chase.

"We've got a live one," the medic tending to Power said, his supply pack splayed out beside him as he worked quickly to stabilize his patient.

"Chase is alive also," said the medic's counterpart, a dark haired young woman who appeared no older than Jennifer herself.

Sheppard looked over at the unconscious woman. She was being carefully loaded onto a field medibunk for transport to the trauma facilities. He'd seen the shots she'd taken, knew the damage that had been inflicted and the treatment that would be required for such wounds. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as he squatted near Power. "Transmitter?" he asked the medic.

"Sir, I need to get him stabilized before we can remove anything from him." The medic continued his work, jabbing a needle into the back of Power's hand to begin intravenous fluids for hydration.

Sheppard stood, turning his attention to the three remaining forms sprawled on the floor of the hangar. He walked to the closest and knew before the medic spoke that he was dead. Blood oozed from a wound at the back of his head, gathering in a small puddle around his form. "Transmitter?"

The medic turned Robert Baker on his side and pulled his shirt loose from the waist of his pants. A small black unit was exposed, no larger than a square inch, yet securely fastened to the man's body at the lower back. The medic pulled a chip free from its connector, leaving the base attached to Baker.

A snapping sound indicated the connection was severed and the medic placed the body back on the floor. Sheppard accepted the transmitter, turning it over in his hand to inspect it for damage. His eyes returned to the body and he coldly stared into the face of Corporal Franklin Kurtz.

Sheppard moved on to the body of Hawk. The medic removed the transmitter and handed it to him, watching as Sergeant Mitchell O'Reilly's form took shape. Sheppard caught the look of anger on the medic's face before she quickly turned to pack up her supplies.

When Lucas reached the final body, the transmitter had already been removed. Corporal Gabriel Comstock's body had already been loaded onto a transport pad for delivery to the morgue. Sheppard added the final piece of equipment to the other two and hurried back to Power.

"Transmitter," he repeated to the medic.

He received a look of disgust from the doctor before the unconscious man was rolled onto his side and the electronic device removed. The same snapping sound as with the others resulted in the appearance of Sergeant Timothy Jacqmain.

Sheppard straightened his uniform as he surveyed the activity in the hangar. Chase had already been removed to the surgical unit and Jacqmain was now en route. The remnants of the fires were being extinguished and the cleaning squads were already detailing the area. Once he determined the status of the survivors' injuries, he would issue the full report to his superior officers.

-------------

End of chapter note: Please be patient for the next chapter. It is nearly complete, but I have several other things to tend to before I can work on it again.


	6. Chapter 6

47-12 Mark 31; 1347 Hours

"Jon?"

Power had heard the soft footsteps, but had ignored them, hoping whomever it was would get the hint and return to wherever they'd come. _Go away, Lark. I don't want to talk to you._ He rubbed a hand over his face, quickly clearing his eyes of any sleep that remained while stifling a yawn. His shoulders and neck ached from the position he'd dozed off in and he stretched them as he straightened in his chair.

"Sorry if I woke you." The footsteps drew closer.

He shook his head. "I'm fine, Kiara."

There was a pause. "Yeah. We're all fine. Just another day on the job. Pass the therm grenades…got any more of those microcircuit diverters…you know." Her voice carried a hint of sarcasm, but it was nearly overwhelmed by weariness.

"I know." He couldn't look at her.

"Want me to leave?" she asked softly.

_Yes._ He ran his hand through his hair, realizing for the first time how long it had grown. "I'm not very good company right now."

"It's okay. I'm not either." She slipped her arms around his shoulders from behind and squeezed gently.

Power sighed, his eyes closing once again. "Matt sent you, didn't he?" He touched her arm, then held it tightly.

"Yes. Though I have to admit I wanted to turn him down when he asked."

He remained silent, unwilling to delve deeper into the meaning of her words. After a few moments, he rested against her, felt her chin on top of his head. They stayed that way for a long time, neither making a sound.

He'd known Kiara Rutledge for most of her life. He'd always perceived her as the "little sister" and had treated her as such. Shushed her, ignored her, gone against what she'd said, prevented her from receiving the full credit she'd deserved on more than one occasion.

He figured she'd come to yell at him. Their "conversations" nearly always escalated into shouting matches, whether they intended it or not. It was just the way their personalities clashed. Yet she hadn't done more than hug him.

Her voice broke through his thoughts. "We'll get through this."

He didn't trust his voice to speak.

"Jon, you have to deal with it."

He kept his voice low. "I'm doing the best I can, given the circumstances."

"No, you're not." More irritation, coupled with frustration.

"Drop it, Kiara. I'm not in the mood for a lecture." Power kept his hand on her arm, but felt himself growing tense.

Lark pulled away, her hand smacking into the side of his head in her haste to break free.

"Kiara, I'm warning you. Enough." He remained seated, unsure how much longer he could reign in the anger.

Eyes flashing, the young woman snapped, "It was an _accident_, but if it knocked some sense into you, then I'll take full credit for it."

The chair clattered against the floor as Power stood and turned toward the door.

"Oh, there you go again, running away! You can't keep doing that, Jonathan! No matter where you go, Jennifer is still going to be dead! You can try to hide from the truth, you can try to lock your feelings inside, but it's not going to change anything!"

"Who are _you_ to preach to _me_ about locking my feelings inside? _You_ were the one that wouldn't talk to anyone when Joker was killed!" He had intended the comment to sting and it clearly hit its mark.

"Well at least I didn't just crawl under a rock and let the world pass by me!" Lark retorted. "You need to realize that you're not the only person who cared about her! We _all_ did, but somehow the rest of us have managed to pull ourselves together enough to continue the work we need to do. Quit acting like you're the only person around here who's lost someone and get back to reality!"

"You want me to get back to reality?" Jon turned an icy glare at her, heard the harshness in his own voice. "Kiara, you have no idea what my reality is like. You have no idea what my responsibilities are and the risks I take every day. You have no idea about the nightmares that haunt me every night and make it nearly impossible to sleep. You have _no idea_ how it feels to hear everyone throw their last ounce of hope at you to restore the world to what it used to be. So until you walk a day or two in my shoes, don't you _dare_ tell me what I need to do."

He took a step backward. "Stay away from me, Kiara. I've had just about enough of you."

Power saw the stunned expression on her face just before he turned on his heels and left the room. And for once, she didn't try to get the last word in.

As he stalked through the hangar, Jon realized just how angry he was. But the anger was no longer directed solely at himself, for his inability to save yet another person he loved. It was aimed at those who would not allow him to grieve for the losses he'd been handed. Those who believed he was their savior. Those who blindly followed a madman and sold out their own, for whatever little piece they could get in a mechanized world.

And through the guilt and remorse that had been near constant companions, he found the anger turning toward Jennifer also. At first, it had been simply for not following his direct order to leave the base. But he realized it was more than that. It was for putting herself in harm's way. For not trusting them enough to get there and assist her. For leaving him alone once again.

-------------

48-1 Mark 2; 0741 Hours

Jennifer opened her eyes slowly, focusing on the wall to her right. A dim light shone from somewhere behind her, casting shadows on the sterile white paint. She turned her attention down to the bunk she was laying on and found herself covered in worn but clean blankets. A dull ache began to gnaw its way to the front of her head, behind her eyes, and she lifted a hand to rub at her forehead.

She saw the bandage that covered her forearm and began to tremble. A shot from a Clicker had struck her there. The memory slammed into her near-consciousness and she jerked upright, panic tightening her chest while pain tore through her left side.

"Jon?! _JONATHAN!"_ Though her voice was weak, it pierced the silence like a siren.

Her mind played back the scene with utter cruelty. She heard the blasts, smelled the smoke, saw her teammates falling. Her vision was blurred by Jon's body as he placed himself between her and the fury that raged around them. She felt him shudder with each blast, felt his heart beating, heard his ragged breathing. Her body was singed by blasts and she was suffocating, but no longer cared. The blackness was coming.

"You're safe here."

A woman's soothing voice. A pinch and a hiss, somewhere on her throat. Jennifer hadn't seen or heard anyone until the injection had already been administered.

Despair hit as she realized she had not died with her teammates. Blackness washed over her once again, this time a sleep induced by the drug she'd just been given.

And though she was no longer awake, tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

-------------

48-1 Mark 2; 0902 Hours

Scout watched the screen fill with code, scrolling as the systems integrated. He waited nervously, not realizing he'd been holding his breath until a voice sounded over the jumpship's communications system.

"State name and authorization code for voice pattern recognition."

He smiled. It was the same voice he'd grown accustomed to hearing for the past four years, without the face to accompany it. "Robert Baker, sergeant, access level blue four, authorization code seven six one four gamma.

"Authorization code verified. Voice pattern identified as Sergeant Robert Baker. Good morning, Scout."

"Good to hear you again, Mentor. Sorry for the primitive conditions, but this is the best we can do for now. Have your systems fully integrated with the jumpship's?" He continued to watch the screen, looking for any signs of damage or glitches that would need to be repaired.

"Affirmative."

Scout hesitated a moment before continuing. There was no point in small talk. As a computer, Mentor had no need for it. "Mentor, were you able to analyze the disk Pilot brought back to the base?"

Just saying her name made his stomach hurt.

"Affirmative. The data disk contained no coded information."

Baker sat upright in his seat. "Mentor, are you sure about that?"

"Affirmative." A moment later, the computer continued. "My final data entry is that of Corporal Chase setting the autodestruct sequence for the Power Base. What is the status of the base?"

Scout closed his eyes, leaning back into the seat. "It's been destroyed. We're in the Passages right now, living out of the jumpship." He stopped, unable to continue.

"And Corporal Chase?"

He clenched his jaw. "She was still in the base when the autodestruct sequence was terminated. She detonated the power core herself."

"Corporal Chase is dead." Mentor merely stated it as a fact.

Scout breathed out slowly, letting the words sink into his brain. "Yes." The acknowledgement was simple, yet difficult to say.

Mentor's voice broke into his thoughts. "Running long-range sensor sweep for identification beacon from Power Base. A moment."

Scout shook his head. "It's gone, Mentor. We went back inside and found Pilot. The base is wiped out. Everything of importance is useless."

The computer was silent for several moments. "Long-range sensor sweep has found no beacon from Power Base. My programming requires me to activate Northstar."

"What?" Robert sat up in his seat again. "Mentor, repeat what you just said." The computer did as requested. "I don't understand, Mentor. What is 'Northstar' and why are you activating it?"

"To run Northstar, my programming requires the authorization code that set the autodestruct sequence for the Power Base. Voice print, retina scan and authorization code of one additional team member is required to continue with the Northstar program execution."

Scout quickly punched in several commands on the console, then spoke into his wrist communicator. "Captain, Hawk, Tank, return to the jumpship immediately." He got up from his chair and began to pace.

----------------

Power stared down at the mug of coffee cradled in his hands. Wisps of steam continued to rise even though he'd poured it well over ten minutes earlier.

"No one will hold it against you, Jon. There's only so much they can expect you to do."

Jon looked up and found eyes the same color as the coffee intently watching him.

Danielle Mayer sat in the chair opposite Power, in virtually the same position. Her hands enclosed the mug he'd brought for her, though neither had touched the beverage inside.

Power shook his head, bitterly responding, "Dani, I've already been told that I need to get back to reality. Am I really _that_ bad?"

Danielle pushed a brown curl behind her ear. "When you show up at my door unannounced, it usually means you're not doing well," she said gently. "I'd like to say that today is an exception, but it's not."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. When he'd arrived at her quarters, coffee in hand, he had been looking for refuge from the constant surveillance of those closest to him. Instead, he'd found himself pouring out the details of the last week and a half while she quietly listened.

"Hey, we've been friends long enough that you know I'm not going to lie to you."

He looked at her again when he felt the cup being removed from his hand. She placed it on the table between them, beside her own cup.

"Jon, listen to me." Dani's voice was calm, her hand on his arm gentle but firm. "When Kevin died, a good friend told me there will always be a list of 'should have, would have and could have' things. And that I can't change them, so I will have to find a way to live with them, and with myself. Because, in the end, I _was_ still alive."

Power shook his head. "Some friend. Basically telling you to move on. Please don't tell me you listened."

"He wasn't telling me to move on. He was trying to make me realize that even though things didn't turn out the way I'd planned, I still had the ability to make choices for my future." She squeezed his arm lightly. "Turns out he was right. And he's still a friend. One who needs to listen to his own advice."

His eyebrow rose, much the same way it always did when she was giving him a much-needed kick in the ass without it being an official kick.

They both looked at his communicator when Scout's voice broke through the silence. Instead of responding, Power simply turned his gaze back to her.

"Jon, you can go one way or the other. But you can't just sit in the middle." Dani took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "If the choice you make doesn't sit well with your heart, no one says you can't turn around."

For the first time, Jon saw a woman who had aged more in the last seven years than he'd thought possible. Not in the physical sense, since she still looked every bit as young as she did when he'd first met her. The shy young woman had matured into a woman so full of compassion and strength that he found himself turning to her again and again during his most serious times of distress.

Another chirp sounded from his communicator. Scout was more insistent, requesting immediate acknowledgement.

Dani remained silent.

Power rubbed his forehead in sheer frustration, before raising the device to his mouth. "I'll be there in four minutes. Power out."

"I know this doesn't begin to cover it, but thank you. I owe you more than I can possibly repay." He gently touched Dani's shoulder as he stood and turned to the door.

"You can always turn around," she repeated as he hesitated. With a slight nod over his shoulder, he was gone, the door thumping softly behind him.

----------------

It was among the longest minutes he had endured when Baker heard footsteps quickly ascend the ramp to the ship and saw Tank and Hawk enter the cabin. Power appeared thirty seconds later.

Without waiting for any of them to speak, Scout said, "I finally got Mentor integrated into the jumpship's system and was filling him in on what's happened. I was scanning for problems with the programming and the connections, but found nothing. Then Mentor starts saying that he wants to execute some 'Northstar' program and needs authorization."

Hawk looked at Jon. "'Northstar?"

Jon shook his head, looking as confused as the others. "I've never heard of it."

Matt spoke quickly. "Mentor, explain 'Northstar'."

The computer repeated the requirements that had already been issued to Baker.

The men exchanged looks before Hawk turned. "Jon?"

Power swallowed hard. He knew this was Hawk's way of giving him the opportunity to return to command.

His voice was soft, but clear, when he spoke. "Autodestruct authorization set by Jennifer Chase, access level blue five. Authorization code seven nine nine five omega. Voice print identification Jonathan Power, access level blue one. Authorization code seven six eight one alpha. Commencing retina scan." He watched Scout pull a pair of goggles from beneath his station and attach them to the console with a set of wires. Slipping them over his eyes, he kept them open for the brief scan. When a soft beep acknowledged the data, he pulled them off and turned his attention to the computer.

"Authorization complete. Accessing 'Northstar' data files. A moment." They could almost see Mentor's eyes closing as it searched for the appropriate files.

"There's something else." Scout's voice was soft as he slowly turned to face Power. "Pilot had Mentor analyze the disk from Locke before the base was found." He stopped.

"And?" Hawk prodded him.

Scout didn't want to say it. "It was empty."

Power looked as if he'd been punched in the gut.

-------------------

End of chapter notes: This took far more time to surface than I had planned. We were working on the 20th anniversary website for Captain Power and I had to put Phoenix on the back burner while I did my share of the work for it. But I have to say the time spent was worth it and I wouldn't change a thing about the way the past year has gone. Thank you to everyone who continues to check back for updates and I'll do my best to keep things moving along this year.


	7. Chapter 7

48-1 Mark 2; 1017 Hours

The bank of monitors within the throne room of Volcania each carried a feed from a different sector within the massive complex. Using his newfound ability to process information from more than one source at a time, Dread allowed the data to flow into his memory banks while he tended to another task.

With a swipe of one final key, the link was severed.

He was free to think without interference.

"Lord Dread."

The voice uttered his name with the monotone he had come to expect.

"I am here, Overmind." His own voice responded through the audio transmitters, with the same lack of intonation as the supercomputer.

"Our link has been terminated. Explain the justification for this."

The annoyance that would have been evident in his human voice was not present in his mechanical one. "I am testing the limits of my new form, Overmind. It is imperative that I become familiar with it and all its capabilities within a short period of time."

"We have completed the diagnostic scan. All systems are functioning as expected."

Dread focused his attention on the screen near his hand. The results of the most recent scan were still displayed and he gestured at them. "Yes, Overmind, my systems _are_ functioning within acceptable limits. But they must be fully tested without the cyberlink. If it is severed while I am addressing Power in combat, I must be certain they will not fail."

"Schematics indicate all vital components have been shielded to prevent damage while in extensive combat. Regenerative programming is available, should it become necessary."

"Acknowledged, Overmind." He did not need a review of the standards he himself had approved. "We have more important matters at hand, Overmind, including a thorough restructuring of Project New Order. One that will destroy the resistance and whatever remains of Jonathan Power's team."

Overmind's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We have a prototype for the Hunter Seeker."

The preliminary files for the newest weapon were accessed instantaneously. Though similar in shape to the "eye in the sky" surveillance units, the Hunter Seekers were larger and had been designed with high maneuverability and firepower.

"Show it to me, Overmind."

The doors to the chamber that had produced both Soaron and Blastarr opened, emitting light and a small burst of steam. Three orbs floated into the center of the throne room and stopped, hovering ten meters above the floor.

"Excellent, Overmind. Let us see how they perform."

Data began to feed into his memory files.

"We have re-established the cyber link. All data concerning the Hunter Seekers has been uploaded to your system."

--

48-1 Mark 2; 1408 Hours

Lucas Sheppard had been quietly contemplating the events of the previous forty-eight hours while his commanding officers briefed the Council with information he had supplied.

This was the protocol. Blood relations meant nothing to the command echelon of the military at Eden. He'd learned that particular lesson at a very early age. And so he'd learned to sit in the background and allow his superiors to do the talking, regardless of the fact that his father was one of the three leaders being briefed.

He'd also learned that in certain instances, blood relations provided a significant privilege and a sense of trust.

He'd used both of the lessons to his advantage.

The final few minutes of the briefing passed quickly. Following adjournment, Lucas signaled his father. A simple nod was all that he received to acknowledge he had secured five minutes of uninterrupted time with the nearly inaccessible leader, who was already speaking with the other members of the Council. Viper returned his attention to the list of names he had been perusing and struck a line through several.

"Lucas, a very thorough explanation of what transpired, as always." Stanton clapped the young man on the shoulder.

"Thanks for giving me a few minutes of your time." He had seen the Council disperse through his peripheral vision, yet had not turned to his father until he'd spoken.

"Unfortunately, a few minutes are all I have."

Lucas nodded, expecting the comment. "I will keep this brief." He tidied the stack of papers he'd been going through. "I'm concerned about Corporal Chase."

Stanton's expression remained passive. "How so? I was under the impression her condition had been stabilized and that she would be ready for debriefing shortly."

"Her wounds are no longer life-threatening and she has regained consciousness, as the report indicated." He stopped to look his father in the eyes. "What if she doesn't comply?"

The elder Sheppard shook his head. "She will. She thinks her entire team is dead. She has no other options, nowhere to go. No one knows she's here, so no one will even consider looking for her." He spread his arms, as if showing the room to a newcomer. "We're all she has. She'll tell us what we want to know."

Viper knew the doubt he felt was apparent on his face. "Stuart Power knows she's here. What's to stop him from getting her out? What's to keep him from contacting his son?"

Teeth flashed as Sheppard smiled, though the smile never reached his eyes. "I wouldn't worry much about Stuart Power. We have him exactly where we need him."

Lucas had seen the look before. It meant that far more information was being kept from him than he could imagine.

--

48-1 Mark 2; 2057 Hours

Jennifer Chase had known pain in her life. She'd known what it was like to have her body brutalized by punishment, torture and enemy fire.

But none of that compared to the ache that burned through her, the emptiness that threatened to swallow her, as she stared at the wall next to her bunk in the medical facilities.

The only personnel she'd had contact with had assured her she was safe and simply needed to rest. They'd kept her sufficiently comfortable with pain medication, gently convinced her to eat and drink to regain her strength, informed her that when she was feeling better, she would find out the answers to her questions.

But nothing they said or did could erase what had happened. She hadn't been able to keep her mind off the failed rescue attempt, the way her teammates had gone down, one by one, trying to save her.

As the scene replayed in her mind, she felt hot tears roll down the sides of her face once again and land in her hair. Her chest tightened and her lungs felt heavy, as if she was still suffocating. But this time, there were no arms around her, protecting her. She felt utterly alone. And terrified.

Jennifer rolled onto her side, her ribs protesting the movement. The skin graft pulled taut as she curled into a ball, yet the grief would not yield to the physical pain. Her mind went back to the hangar. Tank had been the first to fall.

Michael. The first time she'd met him, he'd scared her right down to her bones. His sheer size alone had been enough to make her tremble, but the glare he had cast at her froze her in place. He had warmed to her, but it had taken time. Out of all the team members, he'd been the most quiet and hard to read. Yet she knew he would do anything for her. And he had. Determined to the end to make sure the others got her out of that hell.

She'd hardly believed it when Hawk's suit had failed. Matt. He'd had been the first Organic she'd been comfortable with after deserting the Dread Youth. They hadn't trusted each other initially, but they had found common ground with the aircraft they repaired and flew side by side. The trust grew from there. He had been the first to smile at her. A genuine smile that took her by surprise, happening only a few hours after they'd first met. That was when he'd called her "kid" for the first time as well – and the name had stuck.

After seeing what had happened to both Tank and Hawk, she'd held out little hope for Scout. She hoped it had ended quickly for him, yet she knew it wouldn't have been painless. Robert. Her closest friend on the team. He'd taught her to laugh, to understand a joke, to use sarcasm at just the right time to achieve the perfect effect. They'd worked together so closely that they understood each other's thoughts without the need for words. They could anticipate what the other needed or troubleshoot when a problem became too frustrating. She'd always found his presence comforting and knew he would be there to protect her.

The one person who had been there for her from the start had been Captain Power himself. Jonathan. She'd had it drilled into her head that he was the enemy, yet he'd pulled her out of danger in spite of her initial resistance. He hadn't judged her. She'd felt intimidated by him, but even before the deprogramming began to take effect, he'd agreed to give her a chance to prove herself. He'd trusted her. He had read her the riot act a few times and ordered her to take responsibility for her actions. And his trust never wavered. She had confided in him when he'd asked her about the Dread Youth. She'd sworn to herself that she would never tell another person what she had gone through and yet the words had come so easily when it had been just the two of them in the command room, late one night. He never once interrupted her; he just let her talk. He had become her friend. And each day, the physical attraction to him grew stronger. The desire to simply be near him intensified. She'd wanted to act on it for so long but didn't know how to do it.

And now he was gone. They were all gone. Her friends. The ones she considered to be her family.

The sobs finally broke free and she closed her eyes against the emotional and physical pain. She gasped for air, fists clutching desperately at the blankets that covered her. "Jon, I can't do this without you. Please come back to me. Please…" She knew begging was futile, knew they were dead, but couldn't stop herself.

"Arianna."

The voice was soft, as was the hand on her shoulder. She hadn't answered to that name in so long, yet the last eight days had dredged up that memory and slammed it full force into her brain. She knew she should have been startled by it, by the name that had been used only at Volcania. Instead, she found the voice and the touch comforting. Over the course of several long minutes, the sobs abated to mere sniffles and hiccups; the hand never left her shoulder. Finally exhausted, she wiped at her face with the blanket before turning her head slightly.

A man sat beside her bed, quietly watching her as she struggled to compose herself. His light brown hair was closely cropped, his face clean-shaven. A thin, flat scar rose from the hairline on the left side of his face near his ear, bisected his nose and continued to his scalp on the right side of his forehead. His brown eyes were gentle, calm. There was something familiar about those eyes and the way he sat there, quietly allowing her to take in his presence.

Jennifer searched her memory, thinking back to the people they'd taken to the Passages, resistance members from her days in the UTO, even overunits and other youth members from her time in the Dread Youth. Yet there was something more personal about this man.

Her brain finally processed the voice and recognition shot through her. She sat up as if she'd been stimulated by an electric shock, every muscle protesting the sudden movement. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at him, unable to believe the thought that had just exploded in her mind.

"Arianna," he repeated.

Jennifer closed her eyes, struggling to maintain what little composure she had. "Arianna is dead. Just like you're supposed to be Dr. Power."

"Forgive me, Jennifer. I often remember things they way they once were, instead of how they've become."

His voice brought forth the image that she had known as Mentor. The slightly curly brown hair. The beard. The sincere brown eyes.

The hair was shorter and the beard was gone. But the eyes. They were still Mentor's eyes.

She hurled herself off the end of the bunk, the tangled blankets causing her to stumble as her bare feet hit the floor. Her weak muscles barely held her upright and pain ripped through her side. She reached out a hand to brace herself against the wall, fighting nausea from the dizziness that accompanied the sudden change in position.

She forced her voice to be strong and nearly growled, "You're never going to get anything out of me. You might as well kill me now because if you don't, I'll find a way to do it myself."

Hands firmly gripped her shoulders and she gasped just to get enough air into her burning lungs. She wanted to struggle, to break free, but had only enough energy to maintain her somewhat upright position.

"No one is going to hurt you. You're safe here. Jennifer, you're at Eden Two."

She heard his words and desperately wanted to believe him. "No," she responded, eyes closing. "Eden Two doesn't exist."

"Look at me, Jennifer."

_NO!_ her mind screamed. _This is all just another of Dread's mind games. Calling me 'Jennifer' doesn't change how it's being played. _

"Jennifer." One hand moved to her cheek, gently wiping at the tears that had silently fallen.

She opened her eyes, willing herself to stand firm against this next test.

"You're at Eden Two," he repeated. "I'm Stuart Power. I'm Jon's father."

This wasn't what she'd expected - the room hadn't felt like Volcania when she'd awoken. She didn't feel drugged. She felt like she'd been through hell and back, but it was no different than after any other fierce battle.

His hands were warm and comforting. His voice was the same one she'd heard for the last two years, in the place she'd called home.

"Stuart Power is dead. He was killed in a fight with Lyman Taggart fifteen years ago in Volcania." She fought the disparate thoughts that raged in her mind.

"I wasn't killed. Critically injured, yes. But not killed." Power gently turned her face to his with a finger under her chin.

She finally looked at him, focusing on his eyes. There was sincerity. Trust. Genuine concern. She had seen those before, in the eyes of Jonathan. The son of the man standing before her.

There had never been a time when she had felt so alone and unsure of what to do next. _What do I do, Jon?_

Tears blurred her vision. "Please leave me alone." Her voice carried a hint of desperation. She turned away, knowing what the consequence would be if Stuart Power didn't exist. Dread's minion would seize her weakened state and strike her down. It didn't matter; she no longer cared if she lived or died.

She felt the hand on her shoulder and waited for the other to take hold of her head and snap her neck. It would hurt, but it would be done quickly.

Power's voice came softly from behind her. "I don't want to leave you alone, Jennifer."

She turned her head to look over her shoulder. He was less than an arm's length away. He could have easily killed her multiple times already. But he hadn't. Was it a new tactic or could he be telling the truth?

"Your son is dead because of me," she whispered. She tried to keep the tears back, but saying the words out loud caused the dam to break. "Jon is gone. And so are Matt and Michael and Rob. They're all dead because of me…"

A sob escaped and she quickly turned away, breaking free of his touch once again.

--

The final words of the Council played through his mind as if on an autofeed. _If you reveal anything to Corporal Chase, she will be killed. If you reveal anything to her parents, she will be killed. If you attempt to contact your son, he and his entire team, including Corporal Chase, will be killed. Consider this a small extension of our former agreement._

"It's not your fault, Jennifer." Stuart Power moved in front of her and very gently pulled her into himself. This time, she didn't resist. He felt her fingers grip his shirt, her body shaking as she cried.

He held her until she quieted, lightly stroking her hair and patting her back.

"We'll talk again very soon," he whispered as he guided her to the bunk. "You need to get some rest now."

She sat on the edge of the mattress, scrubbing at her face with her hands. When she looked up at him, her eyes were red and swollen.

Power knelt before her and stroked her hair back from her face. Though his heart ached for her, there was nothing he could safely say to quell her fears.

"Please don't leave me."

His eyes locked on hers. "I won't leave you. I promise you that."

--

48-1 Mark 2; 2104 Hours

Jonathan shifted uncomfortably on the bunk in the room he shared with Scout, his eyes focused on the ceiling but seeing nothing.

The recon team assembled from Jay's group had spent the better part of four days searching for Cypher's group and had been told to scrub the mission when they'd finally made contact. Angel City resistance had been driven far underground following a tip-off that their leader was being targeted for termination. With audio and, finally, visual confirmation that Colonel Six was indeed alive and his team fully capable of continuing their roles, the recon team had returned.

This information, coupled with the revelation of the secondary facility created by his father somewhere in the far northern hemisphere, had brought a small sense of relief to Power.

Northstar. As Mentor had described it, the new base was to be accessed only upon the destruction of the Power Base and only by someone with the security clearance defined by parameters within the computer's subsystems.

The four men on his team all fit the profile to access the information, but they had allowed him to proceed. Their faith in his abilities still existed.

Giving Jennifer's codes had nauseated him and though he'd wanted to bolt from the ship, he had remained. But his primary focus had been on the data disk from Locke and he remembered only cursory information from Mentor's explanation of Northstar.

Knowing that he'd sent Jennifer back to the base had been horrendous enough. But knowing that the disk had contained nothing – that he'd sent her for _nothing_ – had nearly overwhelmed him during Mentor's ten-minute briefing.

There would be no turning back when he found Locke. There would be nothing to stop the rage that burned inside.

It wouldn't bring Jennifer back, but it would ease his mind knowing that Locke would never be able to inflict the same pain on someone else.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk, his feet slipping into the boots that had been placed on the floor only minutes earlier. He'd told Hawk that he would get some rest and would be ready to move out in the morning to begin the search for Northstar. He had convinced himself that he would be able to sleep due to sheer exhaustion. But his mind wouldn't shut down enough to allow it.

Standing up, he tightened his gun belt around his waist and headed out the door. He walked without knowing where he was headed, just knowing for certain that he couldn't stay cooped up in that small room any longer.

Several minutes later, he found himself at the entrance to the hangar. At this hour, it was quiet, only a skeleton crew available to make sure the jets would be prepped should an emergency arise.

Power walked slowly through the hangar to the jumpship, aware of the eyes that still watched him whenever he went near it. For the eight days that they'd been in hiding at the Passages, he had felt the presence of those closest to him, whether they were beside him or across the room, watching him from a distance.

He opened the hatch and took the few steps up the ramp, stopping at the entrance of the ship. After a moment's hesitation, he closed the door and turned to the cargo hold.

He knew his friends were worried about him and he knew they had reason for the concern. The three-day beard on his face, the lost look in his eyes, and the inability to commit to any real plans were just the tip of the iceberg. He knew deep inside that he had to pull himself together, or at least fake it enough to look like he'd pulled himself together. If for no one else but his own team.

_I don't have any answers. Find someone else to fill my shoes. _That was what he really wanted to say to them. That was what he had told Dani, when he'd shown up at her door unannounced. But he hadn't believed her when she'd said no one would hold it against him.

At this very moment, taking stock of their remaining weaponry and fuel would at least point him in some kind of direction. Scout and Tank could easily take care of it and probably _had_ done it half a dozen times already, but this would give him some time to himself. Without the watchful eyes of his friends.

He looked briefly to the front of the ship, to her seat. It was empty, as it had been for the past eight days. _Why did I send you back alone?_ He swallowed hard to clear the sudden lump in his throat, then turned away to finish the task he'd come to do. Walking quickly to the cargo hold, he opened the cabinet containing the extra thermal grenades, laser stars, blasters and various explosives and detonators. As he opened it, his eyes caught on the cabinet to his left.

He knew what it contained and his stomach churned. His fingers closed around the handle. His mind screamed at him that he wasn't ready for this. The door opened easily under the gentle pressure and he stared at the labeled sections. _Ellis…Masterson…Baker…_across the top row. _Chase…Power…_across the bottom.

He squatted down to look; her gear was stashed neatly in the compartment, waiting until it was needed. His hand was unsteady as he pulled out the change of clothing. A full set, right down to the socks. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. _Always prepared, weren't you, Jennifer?_ He imagined what the others had stuffed into their space and doubted it was as efficiently stocked as hers. He knew his own certainly wasn't. Reaching in further, his fingers snagged a pair of boots. There was a soft clatter deep inside as he pulled the boots free and he bent down closer to look. Halfway back was a small, thin case, glinting slightly as the light bounced off it. He stopped for only a moment, then his fingers closed on it, drawing it out of the hiding place. Without a second look, he knew it was a data disk.

Setting it on the floor beside him, he emptied out his own space and stowed her gear deep inside. He stuffed his supplies back in and closed the door, picking up the disk. Forgetting the reason he'd come to the ship, Power turned and went back to the main cabin.

He sat down at Scout's station, holding the disk case in the palm of his hand. _It could be anything. Backup of system controls, calibration database of weapon systems, anything._ Pilot had been meticulous about making sure everything was backed up. _You never know what system is going to crash_, she always said when one of them teased her. They'd joked that she had probably made a backup of the various backups. It was a joke that had lasted all of thirty seconds, until she had opened the containment cell that held the remaining Power Suits. She'd reached around to the backside of the door and pulled out another disk, explaining that this area was the most explosion- and fire-proof location in the base. Everything they needed for base operations and resistance forces was located on that disk, replaced daily.

It had been in the bag on the skybike with the extra suits and the copy of Mentor's profile and data flows.

He looked down at the disk again. It had his initials on it. He recognized her handwriting immediately. It was precise, uniform, _perfect. _Everything she had learned, right down to penmanship, had been from the machine. He shut his eyes for a moment, closing his hand around the disk. _I miss you Jennifer. I wish I could look at you from across the hangar of the base and just watch you work. I wish I could fall asleep with you next to me. I wish I could hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you. I wish it hadn't ended between us this way._

He opened his eyes again and pushed the disk into the reader. The screen lit up with her face and he felt his chest tighten and his throat close slightly. "Jennifer…" he whispered, touching the screen, as if he could reach in and caress her.

There was a serious look on her face and she seemed to stare directly at him. The sound was absent, directed to the headset on the console near his right hand. He didn't reach for it. Instead, he stared at her, trying to memorize every feature.

Her hair was pulled into a low and loose ponytail with soft wisps framing her face. Golden highlights glinted from the dim light of her quarters, where she had recorded the disk. Her eyes were pale blue. He'd always loved looking at them, but never admitted it to her. They were the color of the ocean and he'd told himself he would take her there one day, when the war was over. _No chance of that now,_ he thought bitterly. Those eyes suddenly appeared sad, turning down slightly. When they looked back up again, he saw tears welling up in them, a few escaping down her cheeks. His fingers touched the trail of the tears, then traced her lips. _I should have done this when you were here with me. I should have hugged you. I should have run my fingers through your hair. I should have kissed you. I should have made… _He squelched the last thought like a door slamming shut.

Her mouth turned up in a smile, even though the tears still glistened on her face. His gaze was drawn back to her eyes and he swore there was a twinkle in them. The smile grew wider and she sat back a little from the recorder. He caught a glimpse of the shirt she was wearing and a sob almost choked him. He remembered that shirt. He'd given it to her to wear as pajamas until they could find some small enough for her at the Passages. She'd kept it all that time and had worn it so much that his name on the pocket was almost completely faded.

Another serious look crossed her face and she looked down, then back up again. She lifted her hand to the recorder and he placed his fingers against hers, desperately wanting to feel her skin against his own.

"I love you too, Jennifer," he said softly, watching her lips. He felt the tears fall down his face as more rolled down her cheeks. Their eyes held each other before the screen went black.

Power sat in the chair, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Eight days ago, he'd lost her. Eight days ago, his world blew up with the base. Eight days ago, a jagged hole had been ripped into his heart and although it was still beating, there was no life in it.

She had been on the screen in front of him; that was all that was left of her. An image on a machine. A machine had taken her from him, but now a machine was giving him one final opportunity to see and hear her.

He hesitantly reached for the headset, unsure if he was ready to hear the words she had recorded. The expressions on her face nearly told the story. He positioned the earpieces and set the reader to play again.

"Hi Jon. If you're watching this, the chances that I'm still alive are close to zero. One copy is in the clothes locker in my quarters at the base and the other is in the jumpship, in my locker with my extra supplies. Neither are places that any of you typically go, but if something happens to me…"She trailed off. "Well, I'm sure you'll be cleaning out one area or the other if I'm gone. I figured one would make it through if I didn't. You know me and my backups."

Power had to smile, though the tears continued to fall. Her voice was just as he remembered: soft and sweet, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"When we first met, my first thought was that you were going to kill me on the spot. I was your enemy. But you hauled me onto the jumpship to save me when the next wave of troopers came in. I could think of no reason for you to care about what happened to me and when I asked, you said that all people deserve a chance. ALL people. And you meant it. You said that loud enough for the entire team to hear too."

She stopped for a moment, looking down. "I knew the others were afraid of what I might do. I heard your conversations, heard the shouting matches that you all went through and how you insisted that I be given a chance. I knew they were only conceding because you were their commanding officer and for a while that stung. But they were doing the logical thing."Her face turned back up and tears began to fall. "Taking me in was the most illogical thing you could have done. You could have dropped me at the Passages, you could have sent me to a penal colony, you could have placed me in a settlement camp. But you eventually took me in as a member of your team. To this day, I still don't understand why. I'm grateful that you did though."

"I didn't realize until recently that you weren't just my commanding officer back then. You were my friend too. I'd never had one and I didn't know what one was. But who else would stay up all night listening to me cry and rant, or spar with me until I dropped from exhaustion? Who else would make me face my past and tell me that in spite of everything evil I had done, I was still a good person? When I was at my worst, doubting everything I did, you were right there beside me. You had a smile or a well-deserved dressing-down. Whatever the occasion needed, you were ready. You believed in me when no one else, including myself, did."

"All of you became my friends, but you…there was something different about you. I knew it from the first day, but I figured you were just a sucker for a lost cause."She began to smile. "Let me guess: It was you that came up with the oatmeal for my birthday, right? That was one of the nicest things anyone has done for me. Thank you."

Power smiled at the reminder of her birthday. They had made her oatmeal mixed with chocolate pieces, raisins, peanuts and marshmallows and she had devoured it like it was a gourmet meal. It was something small; they had so little to give her, but it had obviously been enough to make her remember it. It _had _been his idea. He knew she adored those little treasures, especially the chocolate, but he couldn't scrounge enough to make it worthwhile. Adding them to the oatmeal had been a last ditch effort to come up with something. He watched her smile grow before she spoke again.

"I think you should also know that I burned the biscuits intentionally. You guys raised such a ruckus the first time it happened that I started deliberately doing it. It was just so much fun to see your reactions when I brought them out each time. And I want to tell you that I really did have a good time learning to play football with all of you that day. Even though my head and ribs were killing me for the next three days, I wouldn't change a thing about it. You were so worried about landing on top of me that it was almost funny, in spite of the pain I was in. I remember waking up during that first night in the medbay. You were asleep on the chair next to me and you were holding my hand. I don't think you even knew that I'd woken up. You stayed there with me for the next two days, got me through those injections of the bone healing agents and just kept me entertained. I know you were feeling guilty about my being injured, but you shouldn't have been. It was an accident." She became serious again. "But that was when I realized there WAS something different about you. And there had been all along. I had just chalked it up to my inexperience with emotions.

"We haven't had a long time together, but there are so many things that you've taught me. I know now that all life is important. You made me realize that no matter what someone has done, there is still something called forgiveness. I learned how to trust and be a friend. You showed me how to play and laugh. And cry. You gave me reasons to care. Emotions weren't my enemy, they made me stronger.

"Jon, we haven't talked yet. I'm desperately trying to work up the courage to say something to you. I keep going over everything that's happened the past few months and I don't think I can deny it any longer. I'm in love with you. And all the signals that I've ignored for so long are telling me that you feel the same. I'm just afraid to say anything to you because I don't want to lose our friendship. That's the stupidest reason in the world, I know. I don't want to hurt you in any way, so I'm trying to figure out what I should do."She stopped speaking for several long seconds.

"This is so hard Jon. Part of me just wants to grab hold of you and tell you exactly how I feel. I want to know what it's like to kiss you…to feel your arms around me…to be loved by you. The other part says I should wait until the right time, but I'm afraid there will never be a right time." She took another deep breath.

"Promise me something, Jon. Don't give up the fight against Dread. Don't let him win. Keep fighting him with the same fierceness and determination you've always had. Don't let him take you out of the war because of grief. I know you lost your father and others that you've cared about, but there are so many people who still need you. They need your strength, your leadership. They need you to get them through." She paused. "And promise me that when you find someone to love again, you'll tell her how you feel. Tell her that you love her and make sure she knows it."

She looked down for a moment, then back up again. Her eyes seemed to hold his, tears welling up. "I learned how to love from you, Jon. Right now, that's the only thing that matters." She was silent, though her eyes remained focused. Her hand lifted to the recorder as the tears fell again. "I love you, Jon. Goodbye." The screen darkened.

Jon sat in the chair for a long time, unable to move. _Why did you have to make me promise to keep fighting this war, Jennifer? WHY? I can barely function, yet you want me to go out and lead all these people. I keep hearing it from the rest of the team and I don't want to listen to them. I don't want to go on. I don't want to be the one everyone looks to for the answers anymore._ He closed his eyes_. And you already know there will never be anyone to take your place. I can't give away what I don't have. You took my heart with you when you blew up the base. _For the past eight days, there had been an ache deep inside and he had pushed it down, trying to force it to go away. In the silence that surrounded him, he finally allowed himself to cry for her. For what they could have had and what they actually did share. The pain, the anger, the despair that had hung over him since the destruction of the base came out freely and for the first time, he didn't stop it.

When there were no more tears left, he sat quietly in the stillness of the ship, feeling defeated. Her words echoed in his mind and he shook his head absently. _I don't want to do this anymore, Pilot. I've been fighting for so long and I'm tired. _

He thought back to her first solo mission, when she'd broken into the MedLab to get some life-saving vaccine. She had thrown his words back at him about their prime goal. To preserve life. When he'd finally agreed to let her go, she'd smiled at him. She had been right then and she was still right. Her sacrifice had been to preserve their lives, to allow them to continue the fight. He wanted to quit, but he knew that he couldn't let her down.

He looked toward her seat once again. _Okay, Jennifer. I can't promise that I'll win this war, but I'm going to give it what's left in me. That's not much right now, so if you can figure out a way to send a little more hope my way, I'd appreciate it._

He buried a copy of the disk contents deep within Mentor's subsystems, then ejected the disk from the reader and slipped it into his shirt pocket. Pulling himself to his feet, he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I love you, Jennifer Chase. With everything in me, I love you. I wish you were here to fight alongside me, but I will do as you ask and not give up." He spoke in the direction of her seat. "I miss you."

With that, he turned and went back to the cargo area. There was work to be done, a new base to locate, and a madman to rid the world of.

--

End of chapter notes: There were a couple of songs that ran through my head as I was writing the last few chapters. "Lost" by Little Big Town was a significant one. There are copyright laws that I can't infringe upon, but if you do a search for the lyrics, you'll find them. The first two lines of this song kept going through my mind when the guys returned to the base to find 'Jennifer', then buried her. The last two lines of the final verse were in my head when I started writing Jon and Jennifer thinking about each other, tossing and turning in their respective beds.

One of the things that always bothered me about the way it ended between Jon and Jennifer was that he never said he loved her. It was obvious he did, he just didn't get the words out. I heard "Words I Couldn't Say" by Rascal Flatts and it summed up the way I figured he was feeling. (I had the CD in my car and was barely listening to the words until the chorus came on. I haven't stopped listening to it since.)

"More Than Words" has been moved to this chapter, with a bit of tweaking. It was always my intention to assume that story into this much larger one. It has been removed from the CP story list for that reason.

The story will resume in time. Unfortunately, I've got far more on my "to do" list than one person should have and this, among the rest of the "fun" things in my life, must be put to the side. I wish I had time, but I just don't. This story has been my escape for the past couple of years and it will continue to be. But writing for ten minutes a week just isn't conducive to churning out chapters. It sucks. But that's life.

And one final thing. Thanks CJ, once again. You're awesome.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's note: There are some pretty strong emotions in this one and I've had to rein it in a few times to keep in line with the original intent of the show.

I will also admit that I'm jumping the gun on this. I had expected to find more time to write, but again, it's not happening. I managed to crunch through this chapter and decided to post it without having anything else written yet. So yet again, please be patient with me. I hate this delay even more than you do.

Oh, thanks for reading too.

--------

48 – 1 Mark 3; 1636 Hours

Jonathan Power felt the tension in his shoulders and neck as he silently watched the few remaining civilians board the UTO transport. They carried their meager belongings with them; from the looks on their faces, he knew this wasn't the first time most had had to leave their homes quickly.

When his team had arrived at the settlement not ten minutes prior, they'd been greeted with cold stares and a hint of resentment. Many had stayed in their dwellings, leaving the decision to flee to their leaders.

Power understood their hesitancy to come forward. An Overunit had once taken his likeness to lure the innocent into Dread's hands. With marauders and bandits laying waste to what Dread hadn't managed to obliterate, the urge to simply hide was powerful.

He'd felt that urge when they'd left the Passages only hours earlier. The jumpship had been fully repaired and stocked with supplies and they'd laid in the coordinates for the first leg of the journey to Northstar. In spite of the possibilities ahead of him, the desire to walk away was strong. Find somewhere, _anywhere_, he could hide from the pain and devastation.

Yet when the UTO had sounded the alarm of the impending attack, they had changed course immediately and rendezvoused with the transport.

_There is simply nowhere to hide. Nowhere to find peace._

"Captain." Scout's voice interrupted his thoughts and he found the younger man at his side. "Some of the folks have indicated a man is still in this one." Baker gestured to the building at their left. "He told them he doesn't need our help and would like to remain here."

He acknowledged the information with a nod. "I'll check it out. See if he's holding firm to that decision."

Quickly picking his way over the debris, Power peered inside through the nearest door. The visor on his suit automatically adjusted to the blackness, allowing him to see with relative ease. Though he'd hesitated using the suits, he knew they had to be prepared for the oncoming attack by Dread's troops.

"Hello? Is anyone here? I'm Captain Power and my team is here to move this camp before Dread's troopers arrive." His words echoed through the cavernous room, followed by silence. He took several steps inside, carefully turning his head from side to side to get a clear view of the interior.

"We've been told someone wishes to remain here. I'd sincerely like to change your mind."

Searching intently for stairs to the upper level, he nearly missed the movement just outside the visor's view. A shadow, quickly passing out the door to his right.

He gave chase, unwilling to allow another person to fall into Dread's hands. "Wait! I just want to talk to you!" he yelled, glimpsing the figure as he cleared the edge of the building. With a burst of speed, he closed the gap within seconds and reached forward.

Power felt the man's coat at his fingertips and grabbed, snagging the material. The sudden reversal in motion caused the other man to stumble and fall to his knees.

"Listen, pal, I'm not going to stop you if you want to stay here. But it's not safe. This place is going to be crawling with clickers in just a few minutes and I want you to realize what you're getting yourself into." He hauled the man to his feet and was stunned when he took off again.

"Gimme a break," he muttered as he went in pursuit.

It took only a few seconds to regain the ground he'd lost by the surprise move. This time, he firmly grabbed the man's arm and held tight. "Alright, so you don't want to leave. Just give me a reason why."

Jon spun the man around to get his attention. Even with a stocking cap covering the shock of blond and black hair, the recognition was immediate and rage surge forward in his gut.

The man's head smacked into the nearest wall with a sickening thud, Power's fingers around his throat.

Power brought his face to within two inches of the other man's and growled, "Good to see you again, Locke." His fingernails dug a little further into the data broker's throat. If the gloves hadn't been in place, he was sure he'd have drawn blood.

"Let me go," Locke rasped, struggling to find a grip on the wall to pull free.

Jon barely reigned in the fury. "There is no chance in hell I am letting you go, Locke." He saw the panic in the man's eyes. "Did you think you were going to get away with sending Dread to our base? Did you think you could hide from us forever? Did you think I wasn't going to tear you apart when I found you?" With each question, he slammed the man against the wall. "_You _are the reason Jennifer is dead. And I can think of no reason at all why you should continue living if she's gone."

Prying at Power's fingers, Locke managed to sputter out a few words. "He has my kids."

The information barely registered in Jon's brain. He hadn't even realized Scout and Hawk were beside him until Hawk spoke.

"He deserves this, Jon, but let's get some information out of him first."

Locke groaned in pain but still fought against Power's fingers. "Told me… no one would get… hurt." His voice cracked as he attempted to get the words out.

Power slammed him against the wall again, his jaw clenched. "Did you actually believe he wasn't going to hurt anyone if he found our base? He wants to destroy the entire planet and we're the only thing standing in his way. _Of course_ we're going to get hurt." He squeezed the man's throat a little harder. "One of my team is _dead_, Locke. She is _dead_."

"My kids," he croaked again.

"Were probably dead ten minutes after he got them. Or maybe they were digitized." Jon paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "You didn't stop to think about what would happen when you double-crossed mankind, did you? Guess what, Locke? You take something from someone else, something will be taken from you. It's a lesson you should have learned when you were three."

Tank's voice broke through on their communicators. "Captain, BioDread ETA is two minutes."

"Copy, Tank. Tell the UTO to move out. We're bringing this one with us." Power released Locke's throat and watched as Hawk and Scout flanked him, arms firmly enclosed in their grip. "Secure him in the hold. We'll take care of him as soon as we drop off the civilians."

Matt shot Jon a curious look over his shoulder.

Though his face was now impassive, Power's voice conveyed the fury that raged within. "He'll tell us what we need to know."

---------

48-1 Mark 4; 0835 Hours

Jennifer Chase had been staring at the wall of the debriefing room. She had listened to the words of the man who was speaking, but they were merely an echo of what had already been said by two others for nearly the past hour.

She knew that every person in the room was focused on her, on her reaction, on her every move. So far, she'd managed to remain silent, barely even lifting a finger. But the questions were now flowing through her brain with such force that she found herself on her feet, pacing.

The man who had introduced himself as Stanton Sheppard stopped speaking, his hands folded on the table in front of him. Jennifer turned her attention to him, scrutinizing him with the same intensity he had used on her for nearly the entire session.

"You're telling me that you intercepted a distress call from Major Masterson while he was inside Volcania. And because of the deal you'd made with Dr. Power, you sent in a team to rescue us, but that it was too late by the time you arrived."

Sheppard nodded. "Yes, Corporal, that would be the gist of it."

Jennifer faced him squarely, as if they were the only two people in the room. "I want to see them. I want to confirm they were killed. They're not dead until I get some solid DNA evidence from bodies. Just because I blacked out doesn't mean they couldn't have somehow made it out of there alive. Especially Sergeant Baker and Captain Power. At the very _least_ Sergeant Baker and Captain Power. I want you to take me to their bodies and I want to see for myself that they're gone."

Stanton's expression softened. "We don't have the bodies. The team was forced to leave them due to the massive assault that was taking place."

She was already shaking her head. "No. You don't just leave them behind! Not with the technology of the power suits. If Dread gets his hands on any of the suits, regardless of whether they're charged or not, he can figure out the whole damn system!" Jennifer felt her pulse rate rising, felt the panic beginning to set in once again. Nearly every part of her body ached and she closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths to regain her composure. To lock away the pain. To make sense of what was being said to her.

The hangar flashed into her mind and she saw the room in crystal clear detail. The biomechs, the fire, Jon. How close they had come to reaching the jumpship.

The jumpship.

"When did you say the distress call came through?" Jennifer focused on Sheppard once again.

Sheppard shuffled the papers in front of him, analyzing the information. "We received the transmission at 1337 hours on 12 mark 31."

"By then they would have rendezvoused with the skybike I sent from the base. It had the remaining suits and a backup of Mentor's systems on it." She folded her arms across her chest, ignoring the pain that rippled through her forearm and side.

Jacqmain sat forward in his seat. "You sent a skybike out of the base?"

Pilot glared at him. Timothy Jacqmain had been introduced as the leader of the team sent into Volcania. With the exception of two guards posted at the door, the Council and Jacqmain were the only people present at the debriefing. She had no doubts why the guards hadn't spoken, but had grown frustrated by Jacqmain's lack of response to anything that was said. Her annoyance at his unwavering attention to her gave way with his question. "Yes. They would have picked it up and possibly even loaded Mentor onto the jumpship's system by that time."

She stopped for a moment, staring at their blank faces. "None of you get it! The jumpship was in that hangar at Volcania! There's a chance the extra suits and Mentor were in it! Where's the jumpship now?"

Jacqmain spoke again. "We were under heavy attack and we knew there was no way we were going to get it out of there. One of my team set it with explosives before he was killed."

A look of pure horror crossed her face.

"I'm sorry, Corporal, but we had run out of options. I had an entire team with me. You and I were the only ones that made it out of there." Jacqmain's jaw set and he held her gaze. "I did what had to be done."

"I can't accept that." Jennifer turned back to the three men who had been introduced as the Council of Eden II and addressed them. "I don't wish to sound ungrateful for everything you did to rescue and care for me. I truly appreciate the sacrifices all of you, and especially Sergeant Jacqmain, have made on behalf of my team. But I must respectfully inform you that my return to the resistance forces on the front lines is of the most vital importance."

"That is not possible," Sheppard quickly responded, noting the agreement of Badasu and Kowalczyk.

Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "It's not possible or you're going to make it not possible?"

Sheppard, Badasu and Kowalczyk simply stared at her.

Their indifference to her question ignited her anger. "I'm not going to sit around, waiting for an answer. There's too much at stake here. Too many lives have already been lost. Now you can help me get back to the resistance or you can sit in your precious little haven you've made for yourselves, pretending there isn't a war going on outside these walls. Either way, I'm leaving."

Through her peripheral vision, she saw the two guards at the door raise their weapons in an interceptive posture.

Jacqmain rose and placed himself between Sheppard and Chase. "Corporal, I strongly suggest you stand down immediately."

Her lips parted slightly and a mild look of shock crossed her face. "You can suggest anything you like, but the fact remains that the team I am from isn't an official military group. Those of us who were chosen for it may have military training, but as anyone in the resistance will tell you, rank doesn't mean a hell of a lot on the front lines. If you hadn't noticed, Major Masterson wasn't the leader of our group, even though he outranked Captain Power and had significantly more battle experience. So don't try to pull rank on me."

With his back to Sheppard and the rest of the Council, Jacqmain's look was aimed solely at her. And it was deadly. "Stand down. Now." The words hissed out of his mouth.

From behind Jacqmain, she heard Sheppard speak. "That will be all for now, Corporal Chase."

The finality in his tone and the two armed guards at her side effectively ended the conversation.

--------

48-1 Mark 4; 1007 Hours

"I hate lying to her." Jacqmain stared at his hands, his jaw set. "I hate making her think they're all dead. She hasn't done anything wrong, yet they're using her as a pawn in this game." He looked up, caught the slight grin that was flashed for only a moment.

"Then we need to make sure she's got all the rules."

He nodded in agreement. And prayed she would understand what they were up against.

--------

48-1 Mark 4; 1015 Hours

Power held up the tightly wrapped currency. "Can we trust you to keep this between us?" He stared across the console at the black haired woman. Even with the dim lighting of the room, he could still make out the smirk that nearly always turned up the corners of her mouth, highlighted by the shocking shade of red that covered her lips.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you boys." Mindsinger slowly looked at each of them before her gaze settled on Power. She had an eerie calmness that both reassured and unsettled him. "But this one is on me."

He raised a questioning eyebrow. His first foray into the cyberweb had cost two hundred stads a minute – a phenomenal fee when most refugees were subsisting on the goodwill of others.

But Mindsinger was unlike any of the refugees or resistance fighters they'd encountered. Like most of the residents of Tech City, her hair and clothing were from a time long gone. It had been seen as the "punk" style during the late twentieth century and then again multiple times over the decades that followed, resurfacing just before the Metal Wars had begun. Mindsinger's fashion followed the trend of black leather, hardware and hair that stood on end, but in no particular direction.

Upon their return to the jumpship after their initial encounter, Tank had wondered out loud whether the style had been created by sticking her finger in a socket. Pilot and Scout had asked if she'd salvaged the metal she wore from the broken electronics in the room upstairs.

Standing before her now, Power wondered what hid behind the leather, the makeup and the impassive demeanor.

"We all have our reasons for doing what we do." Her gaze turned briefly on the man seated at the console, his arms firmly secured to the chair. "But unlike Livewire here, I don't sell out people."

"You don't understand," Locke half-snarled.

"We will soon enough," Hawk assured him.

"I want to be in there with him. Can you do that?" Power saw Locke flinch at the question. Mindsinger had ordered him to go in alone the first time he'd entered the web. With Dread's sudden presence during that run, he knew it was possible for two people to be within the web at the same time. He just didn't know if she had the technology to accomplish such a task.

Mindsinger mulled it over for several long moments, her red-tipped fingernails clicking on the console. She finally nodded, then focused her attention on Locke. "You both know how this goes. Think about the information you want, you're drawn to it. You get too close to the secure areas, you get cinders in your skull." Turning to Power, she continued. "You follow him. Scan me?"

He nodded.

-----------------

_Dread._

Previously, he would have heard the voice of the super computer speak his name. In the time since his conversion to a fully mechanized body, he had more and more frequently communicated with it and his BioDreads via the mind link. Now, Overmind's message appeared in his mental matrix and he sensed it, rather than heard it.

_Yes, Overmind. I too noticed the unauthorized access to the cyberweb._

_You will enter and destroy Power. He is weak now._

Dread knew Overmind was correct. Jonathan Power had lost not only his base of operations, but one of his soldiers as well. He would be at his weakest level, crippled by the devastation. _No Overmind. Locate where he entered the web. I will personally greet him when he exits. Prepare the Phantom Striker. Estimated time until Blastarr's complete regeneration. _The regeneration process had been slow on the ground guardian. The head had been severed from the remaining parts of the body, requiring full synthesis. Such a task had never been undertaken, but it was proceeding without issue.

_Full regeneration estimated in seven hours, eighteen minutes._

_That will be too long. _He refocused his thoughts. _Soaron._

_Yes, my lord._ The Sky Sentry's response was instantaneous.

_I have a new mission for you. You will receive coordinates from Overmind._

_Yes, my lord._

-------------------

Jonathan Power removed the headgear that had taken him into the web and felt the same queasiness in his stomach as before. Stepping from a virtual world back into reality required several moments to adjust to using appendages instead of simply moving with thoughts. He doubted he'd ever get used to the shift.

Locke, still bound to the chair, remained with the headgear in place. Mindsinger tended to him as Hawk leaned over to Power.

"Did he show you anything?"

Jonathan nodded grimly as he stood and moved several steps away from the console. "He doesn't seem to be lying about his kids, but there's more he's not telling us or something he was trying to hide. I couldn't tell what he saw, but he panicked and that's why we're out."

He motioned to Tank and Scout to remove the bonds from Locke. "You three get him back to the jumpship. I'll meet you there."

Scout and Tank hustled the man from the room as Hawk shot him a quizzical look.

"Something she said earlier." Power's eyes flicked to Mindsinger, who was resetting the console from the run. "I want to find out what it meant."

Hawk hesitated, then finally nodded. "Alright. But you yell if anything happens."

Jon almost laughed, but stifled it. He understood the older man's concerns. "I'll be five minutes behind you."

With a final nod, Masterson disappeared up the stairs after the others.

Mindsinger watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Have something else in mind, Cotter?" She stowed the headgear into a lower cabinet, securing it with a keypad system.

"He's been in the web before."

She straightened and stared at him with her familiar impassive gaze.

Jonathan continued. "While we were looking for information on his kids, we passed by one particular file several times. I noticed it was protected. It's his private information, isn't it?"

The woman breathed out a small smile. "I said before that we all have our reasons for what we do. Some of us hide things better than others. Scan me?"

Power nodded. "I want back in the web."

"No can do, Cotter," she said firmly. "If there's too much traffic, the metal minds will pick up on it. Zone Boy's little dance with Dread has kept me on my toes since the last time you were here."

Jonathan understood the risk she took allowing them in as she did. Her contact had double-crossed them all upon his first foray into the cyberweb, holding Mindsinger at gunpoint while Dread attempted to kill him virtually. With the magnification Overmind had instituted, his virtual death would have meant his physical death as well. Fortunately, he had outwitted Dread within the web while his team had obliterated the forces that threatened outside.

The cascade of events had forced Mindsinger to move her facility further underground to remain hidden. With Scout's assistance, she'd installed more security measures as well. How long those would last was anyone's guess, but it had worked for the short term.

"Alright. Can you give me a time frame when you think it will be safe to enter again?"

His communicator chirped and before he could answer it, Hawk's voice broke through. "Jon, get outta there now! We're registering a BioDread and at least one transport, along with a Phantom Striker, all headed in your direction!"

"Acknowledged! Mindsinger's with me!"

"Tank and I on our way back to cover you! Scout's getting Locke to the jumpship and will rendezvous with us at Mindsinger's!"

"Copy!" Jon immediately energized his suit and pulled Mindsinger up the stairs with him. "We'll have to discuss that cyber trip some other time."

She rolled her eyes. "Cotter, if I have to move again, you won't get another trip."

He grinned. "Charge me double."

"That I can do."

They raced across the altar of what had once been a church, slowing as they neared the chapel door. Power motioned Mindsinger to the wall as he eased the door ajar. Laser fire erupted, smashing into the metal and sending sparks through the small gap.

"Great," Power muttered, slamming it shut. "How many other doors are there?"

She pointed to the right, behind a row of wooden pews. "Just that one. It opens to an alley in the back."

He located it, but quickly crossed it off their list of options. "The alley will be full of Clickers. We'll never make it out of there." Pressing his wrist communicator, he spoke quickly. "Hawk, we're pinned down here. We could use a little help."

Amid a crackle of static, Masterson's voice came through. "Jon, we're doing our best, but there's a least a squadron of mechs. Give us a couple of minutes."

"Do what you can. We'll try to blast our way out of here," he replied, inwardly cringing.

"So much for the cavalry," Mindsinger said softly.

Jon reached for the door again, only to be stopped by her. Through the darkness, he saw the fear in her eyes, but the determination on her face.

"There's another way. Downstairs."

She'd no sooner finished the statement when the window to her right crashed to the floor amid a spray of blaster fire. Shots rained through the room, leaving bright afterimages in the darkness before burning into the walls and pews.

"Let's go!" Power pushed her to the wall and they ducked low as they quickly made their way back to the stairs. Flames began to lick slowly at a cloth that had been draped across the altar. He knew the entire building was a tinderbox and the match had just been lit.

Mindsinger spun on her heels as she hit the bottom step, grabbing the handle of the door and slamming it in place behind Power. Quickly keying in a code, she warned, "Don't touch it again. You'll end up with more than just cinders in your skull."

Crossing the room, she grabbed several disks and memory cards from a drawer in the main computer deck and shoved them into a small, already filled bag that she slung over her shoulder.

Footsteps sounded overhead, scattering in all directions. The search had begun.

"How thick is this ceiling?" Power asked, preparing for an assault from overhead.

"It'll hold. Powered with enough juice to incinerate an entire fleet of tin cans. They try to get through? That's when the party starts." She slipped her hand behind a console on the wall. It slid forward quietly, exposing an opening halfway up the wall. "We squeeze through, it opens to a full passage. I've rigged it to seal, so they won't get through from this side."

"And on the other side?"

"Passage leads to a warehouse a quarter click south."

Power nodded and shoved himself through the opening. His visor immediately adjusted to the darkness and true to her word, he found himself able to stand almost completely erect. Mindsinger followed, a small light in her hand illuminating a panel on the wall. With the press of a few buttons and a retinal scan, the console slid back as the opening sealed.

"Same system as the other door." She turned and led the way, illuminating the ground to keep them from stumbling.

"Is this used often?" Power asked softly. The smell of dirt and mold had assaulted him as soon as he'd broken the plane of the opening. With his visor and the dim light Mindsinger held, he could see rough framework above, preventing collapse of the tunnel.

"Depends on how many seek sanctuary in the church."

From the scan he'd done of the structure as they'd bolted through, Power realized the church itself had been used relatively recently. "Still people who believe there's a god watching over us all?"

"Everyone needs something to believe in, Cotter. If it gets them through a little longer, I'm not going to say anything against it." She quickened the pace and they continued. "Where is she?"

"Who?" Power was focused on the path, unaware that Mindsinger had turned several times to regard him.

"The woman on your team. She wasn't with you this time."

Jon felt like he was being punched in the gut again. _When will this end, Jennifer? When will I stop wanting to die every time someone mentions your name or asks about you?_ "Dread found our base and she was in it. We didn't get back before she blew the power core."

He heard her blow out a deep breath.

"Cotter, I'm sorry." A moment of silence followed. "I saw the relief on her face when she realized you hadn't flatlined on your first run. You two were linked, weren't you?"

He was grateful for the darkness so she couldn't see the expression on his face. "Only when it was too late."

Mindsinger slowed her pace, motioning him to slow as well. "Here we go," she whispered as the door drew within sight. She pulled the pack forward, rummaging in it as they walked. "Padre gave me this. Long range sensor to make sure the other side is clear." She pressed it to the door, watching the readout on a handheld monitor. "No tin cans, no organics. We should be clear until we get to the warehouse doors."

Dropping the sensor back into the bag, she came out with a blaster.

Power nodded his approval, then stepped toward the door as Mindsinger coded in the release sequence. She signaled him to the wall, pressing herself against the opposite side as the door slid back. Doing a quick sweep with his visor, Jon found the area to be wide open. And empty.

He stepped into the room and waited as she sealed the door. Motioning for Mindsinger to stay between his back and the wall, he moved toward the west. She moved quickly with him, guarding the rear. The shuffling of their feet was the only sound and dust the only thing visible in the light filtering through cracks in the ceiling.

A voice buzzed in his ears through his helmet. "Jon, where the hell have you been? We're locking onto your suit now and will be there in three minutes."

"We had to make an underground escape to a warehouse," he said softly. "We'll be waiting on the west side."

"Copy."

He slowed as they neared the already blown-out door, hiding in the shadows while still trying to surveil the area just outside. "Hang tight until my team gets here."

Looking up, he scanned the building across the way and saw a familiar gray metal head. Then another. "We've got company."

The clickers sensed their presence the same instant he'd noticed them and blasts began surging from each direction.

Power pushed Mindsinger further inside, attempting to provide as much cover for her as possible. "Stay here!" he ordered as he picked off the two mechs with his blaster.

A shot from the left bounced off Power's armor, colliding with the wall and charring a hole the size of his fist into it. He heard the woman shift, ducking down to get in position for her own assault.

"I want their intel system," Mindsinger growled. "Then I'm gonna shove it down their mechanical gullets. I've got a lot of valuable equipment down there that I want back." She fired at the troops approaching from the left, easily knocking them down.

He'd never heard her sound so fierce. "We'll work on that once we get out of here."

A deep rumbling sounded from the passageway.

"You were saying?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "We've got maybe four minutes before they storm the warehouse."

"Hawk, we're about as far out of this frying pan as we can get without being in the fire!" he yelled into his communicator. A dozen mechs had come into view as he spoke.

"Sixty seconds!"

The assault continued and Power aimed at a pile of crates on a platform twenty feet off the ground. They crashed down, crushing three troopers with their descent.

"Incoming striker!" Scout's voice sounded through the headset.

"We're coming in with the ramp down! You're going to have to make a run for it!"

Power knew Hawk would only make that decision if there were no other options. "You stay _right_ behind me and you run as fast as you can," he ordered Mindsinger. "They can't land in all of this. We're going to have to jump onboard." He hoped that by going out first, he could take the bulk of the shots that were being sent.

The jumpship appeared to their right, coming in dangerously fast and low.

"NOW!" Jon yelled, grabbing Mindsinger's arm and pulling her out the door. He began the cover fire as they raced toward the ship.

Another plane swooped into view, tracking the jumpship.

In an instant, Power saw the ground around them peppered by shots, heard the explosion to the right and then Mindsinger's agonized cry. He turned, reaching for her arm, only to find another figure in full military gear hauling her up, firing an ion blaster at the mechs to their left.

_Who the hell is this?!_

The jumpship slowed as it broke through the cloud created by the explosion and he saw Tank and Scout, fully suited and tethered to the interior, extending their hands for them.

He and the armored soldier pulled Mindsinger forward and Tank lifted her almost effortlessly inside. Power's mind locked on the blood running down the woman's back even as he pushed the other soldier in front of him; they both jumped for the ramp. The momentum they'd lost by getting Mindsinger on board slowed them enough that they missed, tumbling backward as the jumpship soared ahead.

Power scrambled to his feet amid the continued blaster fire, dragging the soldier with him to the nearest building that didn't have shots coming from it.

"Power level at 63%," the suit warned him.

"Matt??!!" he shouted as they landed behind the relative shelter of a wall.

"We're coming around again!"

The striker was now upon them, slowing as it descended for a landing.

"Why doesn't he just fire at us and blow up the building?" the soldier asked incredulously. The helmet and shield fully covered the face, but didn't hide the voice.

Trying hard not to sound surprised at the decidedly female soldier beside him, Power said, "It's Dread. He's gloating. Probably wants to take me out personally."

"What an idiot."

Jon couldn't have agreed more. "Hawk, the striker's in your way! You're going to have to drop straight down and keep moving forward."

"Copy!"

"Thermal grenades. We can lob them at him as a diversion when your ship gets close." He found several being shoved into his hands by the other soldier. Without any other options, Jon nodded his agreement.

The mechs halted the onslaught as the striker landed. "Come out, Captain. You may try to defend yourself, but you will not win. It is over." Dread's amplified voice broke through the sudden stillness, taunting him.

"Well isn't he just a ray of sunshine?" The soldier at his side continued the sarcastic assault.

"Ten seconds!" said Hawk.

An explosion in the building next to the striker caught them off guard and they looked up to find the jumpship, still open, nearly falling from the sky. The missile gun on the underbelly of the ship fired at the striker while the lasers at the front shot at the mechs on the ground.

Lobbing the grenades in the direction of the striker, they ran for the ramp, this time hitting their mark. Scout and Tank hauled them inside, Scout slamming his hand on the control panel.

"We've got them!" he yelled to the front as the ramp lifted and secured.

The ship rocked from a direct hit to the aft. "Hang on back there!" Hawk yelled.

Power moved to his command console and punched in the codes for the XT-7. "Prepare to launch XT-7 on my mark!" He bolted to the lift and was strapped into the pilot's seat within seconds. "On three! Three, two, one, mark!"

The familiar feel of the separation barely registered in his brain as he guided the craft upward and starboard.

"Soaron is already down. We hit the striker with that explosion, but not hard enough to knock it out." Tank relayed the tactical information, feeding more coordinates to the smaller ship to aid in the assault.

"Hawk, get as far away from here as you can. I've got Dread." Jon heard the audible warning system on the XT-7, indicating the proximity breach of the enemy ship. Blasts glanced off the starboard as it passed. Power brought the ship around, firing at the striker as he came in position behind.

With satisfaction, he saw the direct hit to the port engine. The striker veered right in a plume of smoke.

"Jon, Mindsinger's in bad shape."

He could hear the regret in the older man's voice. And though he longed to follow the striker to completely destroy it, he knew it would further jeopardize her welfare. With Soaron out of commission, they would be able to get the computer genius to the Passages for medical attention without much fear of retaliation.

"I'm on my way." He set the coordinates to rendezvous and within minutes, the two ships were flawlessly joined together again.

When he reached the medibunk, Power found Scout with his eyes closed, leaning against the bulkhead. "Scout?"

A simple shake of his head was all it took.

"_Dammit_!" he yelled, slamming his fist into the wall. He knew the wound had been substantial for the amount of blood he'd seen, but he'd pinned his hopes yet again on the positive. That something – _anything _– would finally go right.

Yanking off his helmet, he stormed into the hold, where he knew Scout would have secured Locke. "There went your shot at finding your kids." He snapped off the words, feeling the rage growing inside once again. "You're just racking up the body count, aren't you?"

"_I _didn't kill her!" Locke retorted.

"Just like you didn't kill Jennifer, right? Guilt by association, Locke!" The urge to punch the man was almost more than he could stand. Instead of giving in to desire, he returned to the medibunk, where Scout stood guard.

He quietly turned as Power drew near. "There was nothing we could have done for her. That blast hit her too hard." He reached out and pulled the bag that she'd been carrying.

"There's some data disks in there. Scan through them and see what she brought with her." Power looked at the now covered body, the anger receding slightly. "Thanks for coming back after us."

Scout nodded. "I'm sorry it wasn't enough."

Power shook his head. "You did everything you could. Remember that." He climbed the steps to the main deck, clapping Tank's shoulder as he walked by.

Sitting at Scout's station was the newcomer.

"I owe you thanks." He extended his hand to her as she stood. "For not leaving her there and for getting me back to my team. I'm Jonathan Power."

The redhead nodded. "Christine O'Connor. My associates call me Ranger." She extended a gloved hand to Power, shaking his firmly. Her green eyes sparkled as they shifted from Power to the interior of the jumpship. "So, this is how the Power team gets around."

"It is." He turned his attention to his lieutenant. "Tank, contact the Passages. Tell them we're on our way with Locke and Mindsinger. See if they can handle Locke. We need him secured and under surveillance until further notice. We're going to need him again if we can get back into the web."

Hawk looked back at him from his position in the copilot's seat and grimaced. "We just lost our sole source for it."

Power nodded. "Her equipment likely went up with the room when the mechs entered." Seeing Scout pause at the top of the steps, he filled the team in on the events that occurred following their departure.

"So we've lost again." Scout's comment and his pained expression summed up the way they all felt.

"She couldn't have been the only one."

They all turned at the feminine voice.

O'Connor raised an eyebrow. "There have to be others like her out there."

Power nodded. "Agreed." He thought for a moment, then focused on Scout. "See what you can dig up through your contacts. Only reveal as much as necessary." His expression softened. "And see if she had any family or friends. We'll leave word at the Passages, but the sooner we can locate someone, the better."

He shifted his attention. "Hawk, get us back to the Passages." For the first time since he'd boarded the jumpship, he noticed the pain in his head and right shoulder. _This is not going to feel good in the morning._

"I thought there were five of you? I'm only counting four."

O'Connor's question caught him off-guard. And for the second time in less than an hour, it felt like a deadly blow. Forcing the anger from his voice, he simply said, "Dread found our base. Pilot sacrificed herself to ensure he didn't get anything out of it."

"I'm very sorry for your loss." He was surprised that she held his gaze in spite of the palpable tension. "My entire unit went down in our last assault outside St. Louis. Six of them were immediate, two more were on our retreat and the last two days later from injuries." Her green eyes clouded at the memory. "I understand what you're going through."

_I doubt you do. She wasn't just a member of my team._

Tank interrupted her thoughts. "You were with the Devil's Brigade?"

She looked surprised. "You heard of us?"

Even Hawk had turned to regard her. "That attack brought down a major mech production facility. And on the heels of freeing those resistance folks who'd been captured? If anyone hasn't heard about your group, they've been living under a rock."

She nodded slowly. "I thought we were going down on that raid at the holding facility. It was close, but everyone made it out in one piece. I think they just anticipated it because we were in the vicinity. They hit us with everything they had." As almost an afterthought, she said softly, "Damn good team. Huge loss for the resistance too."

Power heard the condolences offered by his own team and was grateful to them for deflecting the attention from their loss to hers.

As the conversation waned, he wearily rubbed his forehead. "You'll have to excuse this very blunt question, but I'm not much for formalities right now. You just happened to be in the area and noticed we were being attacked?"

O'Connor leaned forward on the chair, resting her elbows on her thighs. "I was looking for Mindsinger. I'd heard she was somewhere in the area and I wanted her assistance locating a group."

"You could have stayed in hiding and no one would have found you."

Her eyes narrowed, nearly burning through him. "My entire unit was wiped out, Captain. Any chance I get to retaliate, I'm going to take it."

Power silently regarded her for several long moments; her focus on him never wavered. Finally, he acknowledged her explanation with the barest of nods. "I hope you'll understand that in spite of your military background, we need to keep the Passages hidden."

An amused look flashed across her face for just a moment. "So you want me to hide until we get there."

He nodded. "Yeah. Something like that. Tank." He beckoned his lieutenant. "Will you escort her to the hold? And make sure Locke is secure. He has a habit of weaseling his way out of places."

O'Connor followed Ellis down the stairs. The appreciative sweep of her eyes over Tank's body didn't escape Power and he shook his head slightly. She'd appraised each of them in the fifteen minutes she'd been on board the ship.

And Tank had received the strongest approval.


End file.
